


Thunder

by noraebangbang



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Crossdressing, Light BDSM, M/M, Polyamory, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-04-15 09:30:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 31,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4601691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noraebangbang/pseuds/noraebangbang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kim Junmyeon and Kim Jongdae keep meeting during storms. Junmyeon does his best to ignore the attraction there, with exactly zero help from his roommate Byun Baekhyun. With Jongdae sniffing around the two of them more often, it's only a matter of time before they find themselves tangled together and trying to sort it all out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lesson 1: Never Do Favors For Byun Baekhyun

Kim Junmyeon has been a woman for a grand total of 84 minutes and already he is kind of over it. It dawns on him that maybe he should’ve said no to his roommate asking for a favor as the first catcall wafts his way, quickly followed by a second, and third, and fourth... 

But it was hard to say no when Baekhyun approaches him for a favor, even though they have literally never gone well, and especially hard when Baekhyun’s eyes are wide and pleading. 

He definitely did not think that one through. 

In the midst of talking up the favor, Baekhyun had insisted that it would be quick and painless and no one would recognize him. So far, only one out of three came to fruition. If any of the drunks at The End noticed he wasn't the guy whose place he was taking, they certainly didn't show it. It was fun for about three seconds until the hooting started. 

The stage lights make it difficult to see much of what was happening in the audience, for which Junmyeon is grateful. But it makes the disembodied shouts seem that much more creepy. Like being haunted by very perverted ghosts. He does his best to continue the routine despite this, lipsyncing along to the backing track cracking through an outdated speaker system. 

It helps that the drunks at The End freely distributed tips. Not that Junmyeon is hurting for cash—his day job left him with a pretty cushy savings. But it did wonders for the esteem to have random people flirting while handing over money. Junmyeon could probably get used to it.

The End, appropriately named for its place at the far end of a dead-end street, pulses with people swarming in and out at a near-constant flux. The weekends are busiest, for obvious reasons, but Saturdays in particular thanks to the drag show. The extended happy hour didn’t hurt, either. It is noisy, hot, uncomfortable—Junmyeon loved losing himself there on weekends.

Losing himself on stage, as part of the show,is entirely different. He’d only dressed in drag once before, and only as a joke. Mentioning offhandedly to Baekhyun that it was kind of comfortable came back to bite him with this favor.

The previous occupant of the impossibly tight black mini dress came down with a case of mono, and no one wanted those cooties to spread through the others. Baekhyun, The End’s weekend bartender, volunteered his roommate to fill the spot. It was true that Junmyeon knew the routine—he’d been watching it every Saturday night for almost six months since Baekhyun moved to weekends—and it was true that he was the right size, but Baekhyun most definitely embellished the bit where Junmyeon had already agreed.

None of that matters at this point, with Junmyeon spinning his way through the final chorus. Somehow, he didn’t think about how tiring it would be to dance in four inch heels and pretend to sing while under stage lights, and by the time the music tapers off, his panting threatens to turn into actual hyperventilation. He is not in good enough shape for this. But at least he’d made eighty bucks in tips.

He waves to the crowd and followed the others off the stage and immediately kicked his shoes off with a pleased groan. Baekhyun, hanging out just out of the way, grins his usual rectangular grin and holds a bottle of water out for Junmyeon. Junmyeon considers pretending not to see him, walking right past him in protest for getting thrown into this situation, but thirst trumps vindictiveness.

“You see? I knew you’d be the perfect stand in,” he says. Junmyeon grunts from behind the water bottle. “You looked like a real woman. Apart from these.”  
He reaches out to pat Junmyeon’s shoulders with a quick laugh, and Junmyeon shirks away from his touch.

“Do not ask me to do anything else ever,” he says. He points a finger at Baekhyun, which is not even remotely threatening. Baekhyun’s grin remains. “And my shoulders are fine.”

“Sure, fine,” Baekhyun nods. “Thank you, darling roommate. I appreciate it. The carrier monkey appreciates it. The entire staff of The End—”

Junmyeon’s hand stops the overly dramatic monologue in its tracks, but Baekhyun’s eyes read just as smiley as his mouth.

“Find someone else next week,” Junmyeon says, sliding his hand away.

“Right, of course.”

“I’m serious.”

“I got it.”

“Baekhyun. Seriously.”

They’d been friends for eleven years, starting from the time Baekhyun bet a fellow classmate that he could get the new boy—Junmyeon—to kiss him before the first week of school was over. He lost. And yet Junmyeon found himself intrigued by this boisterous boy. They found themselves sticking together through the rest of high school, and college, and now as aimless twenty-somethings trying their best to finagle their way through adulthood.

Baekhyun gave Junmyeon’s nose a brief poke before reaching up to pet the auburn wig.

“You look so pretty,” he mumbles.

“I’m not doing this again,” Junmyeon insists.

“I heard you the first time.”

——

Junmyeon can’t believe he’s on the stage for a fifth week. It’s easier now, and almost kind of fun. The crowds are thinner this week thanks to the storm outside keeping most people at home, and it feels more intimate. He doesn’t worry about the perverted ghosts.

The mono still has the real performer out of commission and considering all the raves Junmyeon received, he had little choice but to accept the invitation to fill in again. Baekhyun finds it amusing this time that Junmyeon bought himself a wig for it. For comfort, he insists. He refuses to mention that he’d been considering getting a wig since that dare.

For his troubles, and because another solo performer couldn’t make it out due to the storm, Junmyeon gets to fill a gap in performances just doing his own thing. He takes the time to chat with a few patrons, snagging more tips, sitting on laps, and finding how much he genuinely likes just hanging out dressed as a woman. He thinks for a moment that this should be more alarming to him than it is.

His eyes drift over to a table with an overly-smiley patron, donning a pointy birthday hat and staring. At him. This kid is staring at him. Junmyeon turns, albeit briefly. Obviously he was mistaken and this kid was looking elsewhere.

The boy in the party hat takes a hand away from his beer can and gives a wave.

Junmyeon finds himself stuck in place and staring back.

Once he snaps back into host mode, he smiles and walks toward the table, and the guests around start to yell and elbow the birthday boy, slapping at him and teasing him loudly.

“We have a birthday tonight! What’s your name, precious?” Junmyeon asks. He smiles, hand resting on the boy’s shoulder, and holds the mic toward him.

“Jongdae,” the boy says.

“And how old are you now?”

“Twenty-one.” His smile somehow triples, as if there’s even that much real estate left on his face to accommodate.

“You’re just a baby, what are you doing in a place like this?”

“Looking for someone like you.”

The smoothness that it rolls off of Jongdae’s tongue startles Junmyeon enough that the mic slips from his grip. Even his reflexes are sharp, as Jongdae catches the mic before it falls into his beer.

Junmyeon laughs awkwardly, pats Jongdae’s shoulder, and wishes him happy birthday before walking off to introduce the next act. He sits the mic back in its stand and heaves a heavy sigh as he goes toward the bar. Without looking up, he’s aware that Baekhyun has an eyebrow cocked.

“So, hey, I think that kid likes you,” Baekhyun comments. “And you’re blushing. Although considering how pale you are, you just look kind of sick. Are you sick, Junmyeon?”

“Just give me a Martinez and shut up.”

Junmyeon is in the middle of his fourth Martinez when he feels a hand against the small of his back. He manages to not fall off the stool at the touch but very nearly loses it upon seeing the birthday boy in front of him. Jongdae’s smile forms a ridiculously adorable crooked line as he keeps his lips pressed together.

“You know my name, so what’s yours?” he asks. The music from the last act of the night makes him lean in closer than Junmyeon is comfortable with. Junmyeon wonders if he can pretend to not have heard. “Please? My birthday wish.”

It occurs to Junmyeon that, when he was this boy’s age, Jongdae was a minor. Therefore, logically, he should not be speaking to him. It’s illegal. Or it should be illegal. But Jongdae’s eyes sparkle and somehow that brief thought twists into a fantasy that Junmyeon has to physically shake from his head.

“Baekhyun,” Junmyeon says.

“That’s a nice name.” Jongdae puts his weight against the bar. “How old are you?”

“Too old for you.” The lack of conviction in his voice is almost embarrassing.

“Whatever age you are, a year older would be too old for me.”

“Okay, stop,” Junmyeon sighs. “Go back to your party.”

“Hey! _Junmyeon_!” Baekhyun’s yelling, the extra emphasis on his name, makes Junmyeon close his eyes. Counting to ten is sometimes the only thing that saves Baekhyun. “Hello, birthday boy. I’m Baekhyun. The real one. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Jongdae says. “Is Junmyeon your boyfriend?”

“Oh, gross, no,” Baekhyun says. “You’re free to take him.”

Six. Seven.

Jongdae’s laugh makes Junmyeon smile briefly, but he immediately goes back to wanting to murder his roommate.

“He hasn’t been on a date in a long time, though,” Baekhyun says. “So you might have to check him for cobwebs.”

Nine.

“You should walk away,” Junmyeon says. He opens his eyes and fixes them on Baekhyun. Baekhyun contemplates pushing just a bit more, but instead, he heads off to check on customers at the other end of the bar. “I’m sorry, he’s…”

“Funny,” Jongdae says. “Junmyeon is your real name or your stage name?”

“Real.” Junmyeon downs the rest of his cocktail and suddenly wishes he hadn’t sent the bartender away. “Really, your friends probably miss you.”

“So?”

“So…Stop wasting your time on me.”

“Dance with me.”

The demand startles a laugh out of Junmyeon. But his gaze drifts to Jongdae’s strong arms, propped against the bar, then up to his neck, his strong jaw, that stupid cat grin. The fantasies rush back and suddenly being in a dress is incredibly uncomfortable.

“Thank you, but no,” Junmyeon shakes his head. He slides off of the stool, landing carefully on his heeled feet, and gives Jongdae an apologetic smile before hurrying off.

Home feels strangely empty without Baekhyun, but the quiet is appreciated for the moment. The entire ride home consists of fighting off thoughts of Jongdae the birthday boy and his arms and how they’d feel around Junmyeon and he’s so preoccupied with this that he completely forgets to change out of the stage outfit before vamping. It occurs to him on the fifth block from the train station when his feet beg for mercy.

He pulls the wig off with a loud sigh and places it neatly on the stand. His slender fingers rake his blond hair back away from his face. Thinking of Jongdae resides in the Things That Are Bad territory. He’s too young. Even if he’s in his twenties, too. Maybe in five years, when Jongdae is…

Junmyeon pauses to stare in the mirror and count in his head and realizes how silly he’s being. Twenty-one counts as an adult. Technically. Sort of. He’s probably very inexperienced but it still counts. The blushing comes back at the thought of teaching Jongdae things. Junmyeon tries to drown those thoughts in the shower before slipping into bed, ignoring the hell out of his ridiculously persistent hard-on.


	2. Lesson 2: Don't Ride the Subway

With the carrier monkey recovered, Junmyeon finds himself off the stage and back at the bar on his weekends. He refuses to tell Baekhyun how sad that makes him, no matter how much Baekhyun teases. Occasionally he remembers to never tell Baekhyun anything. But the other performers at The End start to miss having him in the show, and after another month of resisting, Junmyeon folds and shimmies himself back into costume.

He leans against Baekhyun on their way home from his shift, tired from performing and ready to crash. He’s almost asleep, too, until Baekhyun shrugs his shoulder to lift his head up.

“Isn’t that your boyfriend?” he asks. He nods down toward the other end of the train car. Junmyeon has no idea why his heart does that weird flutter thing at that, and even less of an idea of why it happens again when he spots Jongdae.

He’s with another boy that Junmyeon thinks may have been at that birthday party but he can’t quite be sure. They’re sharing a laugh about something, the taller boy knocking into Jongdae obnoxiously as he cackles. Jongdae is only slightly less animated with his laughter, his whole face shining as he grins. Junmyeon looks away.

“Not my boyfriend,” he mumbles. The scene outside the train window is far less thrilling than watching Jongdae.

“You really should have just danced with him,” Baekhyun says. “He’s cute and you’re in desperate need of getting laid.”

“No I’m not.”

“Cobwebs, my friend,” Baekhyun says. “Go talk to him.”

The thought of getting up, of crossing the car to say hello to Jongdae, has Junmyeon’s stomach doubling over on itself. He crosses his legs and leans forward some, resting his head against his hand.

“Hey! Pretty lady!” Jongdae’s yelling makes Junmyeon look up, and he finds Jongdae staring right at him with that goofy grin. “It _is_ you! Small world.”

“Oh good God,” Junmyeon mumbles. There’s nowhere to escape as Jongdae slides his way across the car toward him, and even if there were, Baekhyun’s firm grip holds him in place. Once Jongdae plops himself in a seat in front of them, turning to see them, Junmyeon puts on a polite smile. “Hello.”

“Hi,” Jongdae says. His eyes dart to Baekhyun before settling on Junmyeon again. “I didn’t think I’d see you again after you ran away from me.”

“I did n…I had somewhere to be,” Junmyeon defends himself. Jongdae’s smile softens.

“Junmyeon, right?” he asks. “I like your dress.”

Junmyeon glances down at the tight red number he’d shimmied his way into and starts to feel himself turning a similar shade.

“What’s your phone number?” Baekhyun asks.

Junmyeon starts to wish he had the ability to fire actual lasers from his eyes as he watches his roommate tap Jongdae’s number into his phone. Sometimes, Baekhyun’s willingness to be more forward made Junmyeon happy. Like when they’re short-changed somewhere, or when a food order is wrong and someone has to complain about it, or that time Baekhyun talked their way out of an ass-kicking at The End. This is not one of those times.

“You’ll text, right?” Jongdae asks, hope dripping from every syllable.

“He definitely will,” Baekhyun nods. “I hope you’ve been enjoying being twenty-one.”

“It’s been a blast. Wait, give me your number.” He holds his phone out to Junmyeon, and Baekhyun takes it before Junmyeon can even object. “That way when you don’t text, I can just text you first. I’ll give you three days and then prepare for harassment.”

“That’s not really legal,” Junmyeon frowns, though it’s of little use. Jongdae is up and back to his seat before he can even finish the sentence.

——

On the third day, Junmyeon spends an hour in bed with his phone resting on his chest as he stares up at the ceiling. The first day passed without incident, and he didn’t even think about maybe texting Jongdae at all until halfway through the second day. But this day, it’s all he can think about, which proves to be far too distracting at work.

He checks the time on his phone once again and sighs. 11:48. Did Jongdae mean three days from the exact time on the train? Three days starting at midnight? Did that mean he had twelve minutes to decide to act? The pressure makes Junmyeon feel like he’s lying on a boat deck rather than his bed, all wobbly and woozy and wishing it would end. Another time check. 11:50. This was torture. But why?

Just sending a text should be simple. Just a quick, non-committal thing to say hello. Or send a funny picture. Maybe Jongdae likes Pokemon, too. No, definitely not. Junmyeon sighs and rests his forearm against his eyes. The fact that a random encounter was making him feel seasick on dry land irked. And yet, he thinks, maybe some of this wooziness is from anticipation. The excitement brimming from the fact that this beautiful kid is interested, more than interested, in boring old Kim Junmyeon.

Or maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he just liked the wig.

Not that Junmyeon could blame him; it is a very lovely wig. And his dresses are nice too. He imagines they’d feel particularly nice sliding over his head, onto Jongdae’s floor. That Jongdae’s hands on his hips would be a nice replacement in lieu of clingy fabric. That Jongdae’s tongue would explore his mouth with an eagerness and willingness to please that goes hand in hand with youth. That Jongdae’s cock—

Junmyeon jumps as his phone vibrates on his chest. He quickly slides his hand back out of his boxers to check. 12:04. One text, from Jongdae.

_You know, I’m not even surprised you didn’t text. I hope I woke you up, pretty lady._

The seasickness eases just a tad and Junmyeon finds himself smiling at his glowing phone screen. Before he can finish his slow reply, Jongdae texts again.

_In case you’re awake, I want you to know I thought about you last night in the shower. So thanks for the visual._

Junmyeon’s hard-on feels like it gets even stiffer at that. He wasn’t the type to be fantasy fodder, and yet here Jongdae was, thinking of him in the shower. He puts his phone down beside him and slips his hand back beneath his waistband, carefully squeezing his shaft as he runs a thumb along his head. For a moment, he considers responding that he was thinking of Jongdae right now, but it feels too forward. Too much like Baekhyun and not like himself. Then again…

His ears burn with embarrassment as he tosses the phone down again, making sure it’s face down to avoid seeing the screen light up with an incoming text. Acting like Baekhyun is embarrassing and weird and he’s sure Jongdae will just laugh at his meager attempt at sexting. He checks the phone again after a few halfhearted strokes, curiosity creeping in.

_Call me._

Such a simple statement and yet it makes Junmyeon’s throat tighten. He pushes himself up on an elbow, staring at the phone with a small frown.

_No, really, call me. Don’t make me wait three days._

Junmyeon contemplates throwing the phone across the room, but instead, and with a very shaky finger, he presses a button to call.

“You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you,” Jongdae chuckles after barely one ring. Junmyeon forgets how words work, hearing that smooth voice on the other end. “Did you get off yet?”

“…No,” Junmyeon admits with a quick glance at his erection. “I’m sorry, this was a mistake, we shouldn’t—”

“Keep going, then,” Jongdae raises his voice some to speak over Junmyeon.

“I can’t, we’re on the phone,” Junmyeon mumbles. His free hand dances along his length lightly despite himself.

“Why do you think I said call me?” Jongdae laughs. “Push the speaker button.”

“I have a roommate.”

“So do I,” Jongdae says. “Push the button.”

Junmyeon sighs a little. He thinks maybe hanging up might be the better course of action as opposed to actually listening to this guy—this boy—but he finds himself switching to speaker mode, sitting the phone down and lying back again.

“Are we good now?” Jongdae asks. Junmyeon hums slightly, too embarrassed to speak. “Great. I should’ve said you should do a video call.”

“No.”

“Oh look at that, I like that firmness,” Jongdae teases. Junmyeon’s heart speeds again, and he starts to feel precum sliding over the side of his fist. “Do you tuck under your dresses?”

“This is so awkward,” Junmyeon says with a small laugh. “Yes.”

“It’s awkward because you need to loosen up,” Jongdae says. “I’m just trying to help you. When I saw you, the first time I mean, I just wanted to hike that dress up and fuck your thighs against the bar. Maybe your friend the bartender could watch.” The moan that slips out of Junmyeon makes Jongdae continue. “That’d feel good, right? Me grinding against your ass, slow and steady, my cock rubbing against yours between your legs until you’re practically screaming for me to let you come…”

Junmyeon bites his lip, almost hard enough to break skin. His hand works against his dick with a speed he hadn’t utilized since middle school. The motion sickness comes back but feels more like a pleasant, gentle rocking. He wants this Jongdae more than he wants anything else in the moment. It’s almost painful how much he wishes Jongdae’s words were true.

“I could untuck you,” Jongdae says, as though it’s a sudden thought and not really something he’d had in mind. “Whip you around, get down on my knees…I want to feel you in my mouth, Junmyeon. I want to let you fuck my mouth hard. And I want to swallow every drop of cum you’ve got.”

“Fuck!” Junmyeon yells as he starts to come, far sooner than he’d anticipated, and he tries to catch his spurts in his hand with a feeble moan. “Oh fuck, I’m sorry…”

Jongdae’s quiet laugh makes Junmyeon feel like maybe he could come again. “I didn’t even get to the fucking.”

Junmyeon swallows. His arm quivers some from the stroking, and he tries to relax as best he can. “You…want to fuck me?”

“Don’t you want to fuck _me_?”

Any answer Junmyeon can think of ultimately leads to yes. Yes, he wants to feel Jongdae on him, in him, pounding so hard he leaves bruises on his delicate pale skin. He wants to see Jongdae’s slender hips flush against his own as Jongdae rides him. He wants to consume him. And now he feels incredibly dirty for even thinking that.

“I’m sorry, I…need to go.”

His free hand swiftly hangs up as Jongdae is in the midst of protesting, and he sighs heavily. This was definitely a mistake. A really, really hot mistake.


	3. Lesson 3: Watch the Road

Breakfast is silent. At least, neither Junmyeon nor Baekhyun say anything verbally. Baekhyun’s stares, his knowing smirk, his occasional quiet laugh all say more than enough. Junmyeon pokes at his breakfast, content to ignore his roommate. Twenty minutes without speaking finally gets to Baekhyun.

“I think it’s been three years since the last time you came that loudly,” he says. Junmyeon groans and puts his head on the table. “Not that I was eavesdropping. Good for you.” He feels Baekhyun pat his head, hears him walk off and open the dishwasher. “I heard another voice - did you smuggle the birthday boy in?”

“No, I did not.”

“It’s okay if you did,” Baekhyun says. “In fact, please do. You need it, and I need for you to get it because you’re always marginally less nutty when you’re getting laid.”

“I was alone.” Junmyeon’s cheeks burn. “He…called.”

“Oh _did_ he?” 

“Shut up.”

Baekhyun’s laughter echos as Junmyeon gets up to put his own dishes into the dishwasher. He bumps Baekhyun out of the way with his hip, and Baekhyun stumbles back dramatically with a cry. If Junmyeon had any thought about being angry at his overly nosy roommate, it dissipates with that tiny playful exchange. It had always been that way with them; he couldn’t recall more than a handful of serious fights in their long history together, and certainly not any within the last few years. They worked somehow, despite flowing within two rather different rivers most of the time. Occasionally, their waters collided.

“I think you should start seeing him,” Baekhyun says, nodding.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be that isn’t here, bothering me?”

“No. No, I really don’t.” Junmyeon groans as Baekhyun attaches to his arm. “Tell me all about what happened with that phone call that clearly had you screaming. I haven’t had sex in three weeks and I am dying for some kind of stimulation. Other than what I got last night. Thanks, by the way.”

“I’m so uncomfortable right now,” Junmyeon frowns. He shakes Baekhyun off and starts toward the living room, unfortunately hearing Baekhyun and his bunny slippers shuffling along behind him. “I’m not telling you anything, Baekhyun.”

“Why are you so terrible!” Baekhyun huffs. Once Junmyeon sits on their squishy plush sofa, Baekhyun flings himself down as well, draping over Junmyeon’s lap. “I’m going to get a new best friend who will indulge me.”

“I never said I was your best friend,” Junmyeon laughs some, his hand automatically drifting to start combing through Baekhyun’s hair.

“I decided for you. Tell me all the dirty bits.”

——

Obnoxious thunder rolls across the sky. Outside, the sky drapes a darkness over the landscape that makes it seem like the middle of the night rather than six in the morning. Junmyeon feels fairly pleased that he doesn’t have to work, but his joy fizzles out as his phone starts to vibrate almost incessantly.

_Hey. So. Guess who missed the train home._

_It’s me. I missed the train home._

_Can you come pick me up please? I’m not taking the bus and I refuse to spend my tip money on a cab and I don’t trust these bitches to drive me home._

_Please?_

_Junma. Please._

_J U N M A_

_PLeaaaaseeEEeeEeee_

_I’m just doing this so you wake up and look at the phone. I’m going to call if you don’t respond in ten minutes._

Junmyeon sighs and gets up to pull on pants.

When he reaches The End, he sees Baekhyun standing beneath the awning, looking particularly small as he looks around as if he’s expecting to be murdered any second. His eyes light up upon seeing Junmyeon’s car, and he gives a sheepish wave. Junmyeon returns it, pulling up as far as he can so that Baekhyun doesn’t have to get very wet.

“Bless you,” Baekhyun sighs as he buckles himself into the passenger seat. “I was going to wait for the next train but it’s not for another two hours. Sunday scheduling is so stupid.”

“You owe me,” Junmyeon says while backing out of the deserted lot.

Baekhyun fills him in on The End’s Saturday night patrons, about the sound system finally giving up the ghost and going kaput for good, about the fist fight that broke out between a very drunk man and another man he accused of cheating. Typical, really. Junmyeon’s attention turns to Baekhyun for only a split second, but when his eyes return to the road, he finds himself way too close for comfort to running someone over.

Amid all the yelling, brakes squealing, and thunder, Junmyeon barely has time to think. Once he’s stopped, he notices his hand against Baekhyun’s chest to keep him from smashing into the dashboard. Outside of the car, the pedestrian straggler, who absolutely did not have the right of way as far as Junmyeon is concerned, comes around to the driver’s side to continue yelling.

Hands smack against the glass, car horns honk behind him, and he’s pretty sure Baekhyun is also speaking, but Junmyeon only focuses on this person’s face. A wet face, shrouded in the shadow of the jacket doing a piss-poor job of keeping him dry, but a face Junmyeon feels certain he recognizes. And in that moment that Junmyeon turns his face to the window, the pedestrian pauses too, that same flash of recognition hitting him.

Shit. It’s the birthday boy.

“Are you fucking serious,” Junmyeon mumbles. At that moment, Jongdae’s anger switches seamlessly to the grin that Junmyeon is more used to seeing. No. Not used to. That was too familiar a feeling.

“Hey!” Jongdae says. He waves.

Baekhyun laughs. “Wow I think this has to be a sign.”

“Shut up. Son of a bitch…” Junmyeon, against every rational bone in his body, gestures toward the back door to his car, then does it again after Jongdae raises an eyebrow. The back door slams shut after Jongdae catches on, and Junmyeon steps on the gas to stop all the honking.

“Funny meeting you like this,” Jongdae jokes. “Jesus, I’m getting your nice leather all wet.”

“Don’t,” Junmyeon warns Baekhyun. He glances over in time to see Baekhyun close his mouth again with a tiny pout. “Where am I taking you?”

“Take me to your place,” Jongdae says.

“Where am I taking you?”

“I just told you.”

“I’m absolutely not in the mood to play games like this—”

“I’m honestly not playing a game,” Jongdae says. “I don’t want to go home now. You almost ran me over. A cup of coffee at your place is the least you can do.”

“He does have a point,” Baekhyun comments, singing the last few syllables. Junmyeon makes a mental note to start researching one-bedroom apartments.

Junmyeon parks outside of their apartment unit before he really thinks better of it, and silently trudges to the door as Jongdae and Baekhyun chatter behind him. This is a terrible idea. Possibly the worst idea. But home was fairly close to The End, and maybe waiting out the storm before sending this boy on his way is a smart idea. Or at least an idea that wouldn’t lead him to running someone else over.

“Wow, this is a nice condo.” Jongdae wastes exactly zero time with taking off his soggy clothes and Junmyeon finds himself staring before forcing himself to look away. “Are you rich?”

“We are,” Baekhyun says. He has no problem staring. And no shame.

“We are not,” Junmyeon says. He holds a shaky hand out for Jongdae’s clothes. “Give me those. I’ll wash them.”

“Thanks,” Jongdae says, and Junmyeon is sure he can hear that giant grin in his voice. “Got anything I can wear while I wait or am I just shit outta luck?”

“You honestly could just stay with the nakedness,” Baekhyun suggests.

Junmyeon promptly drops the clothes he’d been given, the heavy plop startling him momentarily. He stoops to gather the clothes up and accidentally, or probably not accidentally, steals a glance at Jongdae. At his lean legs. Muscular thighs. Meticulously groomed fluff of thick, dark hair nicely framing a decently-sized cock…Breathing becomes a secondary thought and his glance turns into full-on staring for some time before he feels Baekhyun’s hand push his jaw up.

“You’re drooling,” Baekhyun teases. “Don’t be rude. The bathroom’s down the hall on the right, Jongdae. My room’s right across, help yourself to whatever’s clean.”

“Thanks.” Jongdae smiles, though it’s directed at Junmyeon rather than the actual helpful one. He whistles his way toward the bathroom and before Junmyeon can stare at his ass, Baekhyun’s hand covers his eyes.

“Since when do you openly gawk at people?” Baekhyun laughs. “Here, give me those clothes. You’re clearly not in a condition to be of much use for anything.”

Thunder rattles the apartment again as Junmyeon sees himself to the couch to sit and try and gather his thoughts. This meant nothing. Of course. He’s simply being a good Samaritan and not letting Jongdae get swept away in a flash flood or struck by lightning or something. This meant nothing. Junmyeon’s shaky hands just mean he’s chilly.

Since Baekhyun has laundry covered, Junmyeon gets up again to make a quick meal for them before he puts Baekhyun to bed. Though, his idea of making a meal consists of opening one of the pre-made casserole dishes in their freezer, as baked by his coworker Kyungsoo, who is convinced the two will die of starvation and/or malnutrition due to lack of cooking skills. He sticks the casserole in the oven and turns to go back to the living room.

The sight of Jongdae standing near the doorway watching him startles him enough that he hits his head against the stove hood upon jumping back.  
Jongdae laughs a little and folds his arms over his chest. Baekhyun’s clothes fit just a bit too snugly and it makes Junmyeon’s cheeks burn. “Am I bothering you?” Jongdae asks.

“What? No,” Junmyeon says quickly. He tries to ignore the low throbbing pain in the back of his head. “Um. Did you need something?”

“You know you left yourself open for a pick-up line there, right?” Jongdae smirks. Junmyeon feels a tug in his gut to close the space between them and kiss that stupid smirk. Instead, Jongdae walks closer and grabs a plastic cup from the counter. “Water, maybe?”

Junmyeon ignores the outstretched cup and grabs an actual glass from a cabinet. He skirts around Jongdae in the widest path possible and gets ice from the freezer, then fills it with water and hands the glass over.

“Thank you,” Jongdae says with a slight dip of his head. “You’re allowed to look at me, you know. You could even touch me if you’re feeling bold.”

“I’m not, but thanks.” Junmyeon continues to ignore Jongdae’s existence by wiping down the already-clean counter.

“My boxers make your ass look really good!” Baekhyun laughs a little louder than his normal piercing laugh, and Junmyeon tenses. That’s his flirting laugh. That’s his ‘we’re definitely going to fuck soon’ laugh.

Junmyeon glances over his shoulder briefly to see Baekhyun slip an arm around Jongdae’s waist, with Jongdae’s free hand coming to rest against Baekhyun’s shoulder. He can’t even focus on what they’re talking about; his ears are filled with nothing but a quiet hum of anger. Or maybe jealousy. He can’t think straight enough to decide which.


	4. Lesson 4: Never Sleep Again

Sometime between eating and the storm lifting, Baekhyun had fallen asleep. Given his insistence upon both Junmyeon and Jongdae hanging out in his room with him, somehow they’ve both gotten trapped beneath him, his head resting in Junmyeon’s lap and legs draped over Jongdae’s. For a few moments, once they both realized Baekhyun was no longer doing his flirty laugh or interjecting random anecdotes into the conversation, things grew quiet between them. Now, after a few minutes of nothing in the air but residual rumbling from the sky and Baekhyun’s soft breathing, Junmyeon tries to think of something clever to say.

Nothing comes. He has only fidgeting and quiet hums and furrowed brows instead. When he glances to Jongdae, the younger boy meets his eyes and smiles some.

“Does he normally fall asleep like this?” Jongdae asks.

“Sort of,” Junmyeon says. Something makes him feel a bit sad that he couldn’t think of anything more interesting to say, but at least they’re speaking. “Usually when he gets off, we just have breakfast in bed and he passes out for the night. Well. Day.”

“That’s cute.” It’s somewhat unreadable, the tone, and Junmyeon starts to squirm a little more. “You two are really cute. Are you sure he’s not your boyfriend?”

“If he is, we’re doing a really terrible job consummating,” Junmyeon says. Jongdae barks out a laugh before covering his mouth and looking to Baekhyun. Junmyeon’s heart leaps some at making this boy laugh.

“So you’ve never slept together? How long have you been friends?”

The bed shifts as Jongdae gets more comfortable, lying back against Baekhyun’s mountain of pillows and stuffed animals. Baekhyun groans, moves his hips closer to Jongdae and pins him down more.

“No, never,” Junmyeon shakes his head. “Eleven years.”

“Have you ever done anything together?”

“Well…we’ve kissed before but it’s never anything really romantic,” Junmyeon says. “Just platonic kissing. Nothing like…I mean. We’ve never touched each other or anything. We’re definitely just friends.”

“It’s just funny I guess,” Jongdae says, “that you’re just friends who seem like they’ve been married for forever. You’re petting his hair, for fuck’s sake.”  
Junmyeon stills his hand. “Habit,” he says with a small embarrassed laugh. “It’s just…how we’ve always been.”

“Maybe you’ve always been more than friends.”

Junmyeon wishes for the storm to come back to cover up his overly fast heartbeat in his ears. He sighs slightly, then lies down on the bed to stare up at the ceiling.

“Sorry. Crossing a line. Not like I know either of you,” Jongdae says. “I’d like to know you.”

“What do you want to know?” Junmyeon mumbles, feeling rather sleepy himself.

“Why do you keep running from me?”

Junmyeon doesn’t have an answer.

——

When Junmyeon opens his eyes, he finds himself staring at the back of Baekhyun’s head. He smiles to himself, though he can’t quite peg why.

“I just never really wanted to live alone,” Baekhyun says in a quiet voice. “It’s lonely. And Junma’s nice to stay with.”

“I don’t mind it.” Jongdae, hidden on the other side of Baekhyun, returns the hushed tone. “But I do enjoy saving money. It’s the only reason I haven’t moved out. Not that I hate my roommate; I just would rather live with someone I care about.”

“Play your cards right and you could move in here,” Baekhyun says. That damned flirty voice comes back.

Jongdae laughs. “To stay with you or him?”

Waking up from a nap to be annoyed just ruins the entire sanctity of napping, and Junmyeon shifts to turn away from them as Baekhyun simply laughs in response. He hopes his rustling disrupts their conversation. Neither of the others speak for a while.

“I dunno,” Baekhyun sighs. So much for disruption. “He likes you, I can tell. But he’s also…”

“Difficult? Stubborn? Rude?”

“Scared. Of a multitude of things; take your pick—commitment, other people, rejection. I think he’s worried about getting attached. So he’s making up an excuse of your age being a problem.”

“I should’ve said twenty-five,” Jongdae sighs.

“Lying would just guarantee a no,” Baekhyun says. The bed starts to move some and Junmyeon wills himself not to turn over to see what exactly is happening. “The fact that he’s really insecure doesn’t help much. Obviously a hot young thing like you isn’t really interested in him, according to him. You’re persistent, though. I think it’ll happen for you. And if not then hello, I’m Baekhyun, I’m single and I’m totally okay with a little age gap.”  
The laugh that Jongdae lets out is much quieter, serious, than Junmyeon recalls hearing. Jealousy rattles around in his chest and threatens to break out but he quiets himself and closes his eyes to try and go to sleep again.

“I had almost hoped you two were a package deal,” Jongdae says. Baekhyun laughs. “No, seriously. He’s beautiful. And you walked up at the bar and I thought, ‘Oh, of course, why would this pretty guy be single? Of course he’s dating the hot bartender.’”

“Stop,” Baekhyun laughs in a way that very much means ‘Keep going.’

“I’m serious!” Jongdae starts to laugh as well. “I can’t believe you’ve never slept together.”

“Me either,” Baekhyun says. “I’ve wanted to, sometimes…Why am I telling you this? But it’s just not really plausible.”

“Why not?”

The silence makes Junmyeon feel even more awkward about eavesdropping. He imagines Baekhyun making his trying not to cry face and it breaks his heart. He starts to think of every instance of any possible sign that Baekhyun ever thought about that. Nothing comes to mind and the feeling of obliviousness makes him feel even worse. 

“I dunno,” Baekhyun finally answers. “Anyway, welcome to the conversation, Junma.”

“…Good morning,” Junmyeon says with a blush.

“It’s 4:23,” Baekhyun says.

Junmyeon sits up with a sigh and finally catches sight of Jongdae, shirtless and staring with a sleepy smile. Junmyeon feels his ears burn even more. “You should’ve woken me up, now I won’t sleep for work tomorrow,” he says.

“But you looked so cute,” Baekhyun says with a laugh. He’s on his back, head tilted toward Junmyeon while his legs still intertwine with Jongdae’s.  
It’s weird to Junmyeon, how comfortable this all is—the three of them in bed together. He tries to shake everything he’d overheard out of his head. 

“Shouldn’t you be home by now?” he asks Jongdae.

“I fell asleep,” Jongdae says. “And then we were talking. Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” Junmyeon says with a shake of his head.

It feels nice, freeing, to say his actual feelings aloud. It makes him smile to see Jongdae’s own grin widen. He thinks, for maybe the first time ever, that maybe Baekhyun has a point about being scared. The fear certainly doesn’t evaporate immediately because nothing is ever so simple. Instead, it simply becomes less of a hard-edged impediment.

“What did I miss while sleeping?” he asks.

“Not a lot,” Baekhyun says. “I just woke up twenty minutes ago and I want to go back to sleep. We were just talking, which you heard.”

“I didn’t hear much…”

“Did you hear the part about wanting both of you?” Jongdae asks.

Junmyeon doesn’t know if it’s Jongdae’s age or his personality that makes boundaries non-existent. He almost kind of likes it. He frowns some, looking to Baekhyun for a second. Baekhyun watches him in return with expectant eyes.

“I heard something like that,” Junmyeon says.

“What do you think?”

Even if left to consider the notion for a hundred years, Junmyeon isn’t sure he’d ever come to any sort of meaningful conclusion. At least not one that didn’t make him feel uncomfortable. He thinks of all the times he’s let the idea of being with Baekhyun sweep into his mind, only to be turned away almost immediately. He thinks of how velvety and homey Jongdae’s voice had been on the phone. How much he wants to just kiss him and touch him and feel body heat between them. His mind starts making up scenarios involving all three of them, hot and slick and confusing in a thrilling way.

And then he thinks of logic and reason and other disgusting adult traits. Three people in one relationship could never work. Someone would get hurt. Someone would get left out. Someone would get left behind. Not only that, but who trades an eleven-year friendship for an awkward three-person relationship? Should things go south between him and Baekhyun, he’s certain he wouldn’t be able to take it.

He feels Baekhyun interlocking their fingers and he’s drawn from his overanalyzing back into reality. The reality of the situation remains wanting Jongdae. The reality of the situation is that of all the times he’s held Baekhyun’s hand, this feels…exactly the same. Either that meant he felt nothing, or they’d been lying to themselves for a decent number of years. Junmyeon shivers at the thought of it being the latter.

“What’s the protocol?” Junmyeon asks, which earns him two laughing bedmates. He smiles at how nice their laughs sound layered.

“Two options,” Jongdae says. “I date you both so you two don’t have any weirdness between you—”

“That’s still pretty weird,” Baekhyun says.

“—Or, and not to sway any votes, but this is my preferred option—the three of us, all in, together.” Jongdae punctuates his proposition with a grin and lays his head against Baekhyun’s chest. Junmyeon feels a bit like an out of body experience, watching Baekhyun petting Jongdae’s hair. “You don’t have to answer right now. I just want to make it clear that I’m really into both of you and I think somewhere in the backs of your heads, you realize you’re into each other. If it doesn’t work out with me, then hey, you’ll still have each other.”

“You’re smart for someone barely out of his teens,” Baekhyun says.

“Life is far too short for bullshit games,” Jongdae says quietly. 

Baekhyun makes a quiet, clipped gasp, and Junmyeon turns his focus from staring down at his lap to looking at his roommate. His stomach does flips as he watches Jongdae lazily squeezing Baekhyun’s crotch in a slow but fairly steady rhythm, which makes Baekhyun squeeze Junmyeon’s hand a bit harder. The idea of the three of them as one unit jerks from an abstract thought to actual reality, and Junmyeon’s heart pounds with anticipation.


	5. Lesson 5: Keep Fresh Sheets Handy At All Times

“You two look like I’m holding you hostage.”

Junmyeon swallows hard and glances to Baekhyun, who turns his head in sync. It’s hard to read whether or not this is Baekhyun’s ‘this is a terrible idea’ face or his ‘I definitely want to do this but I don’t want to seem overeager’ face, and Junmyeon knows his expression must be just as hard to peg.

Jongdae sits on the bed in front of them, resting back against his calves and watching them both with a smirk that Junmyeon is sure can only lead to trouble. When neither of them makes a move, Jongdae shifts to crawl closer to them. He keeps his focus on Junmyeon, and soon there’s barely a hair’s width between them. Junmyeon tries to remember how to breathe like a normal person but finds it increasingly difficult as Jongdae sits against his thigh.

“If you want me to stop, I’ll stop,” Jongdae, voice smooth and sharp, uses a lower register to speak to them, his fingertips tracing small circles on the back of Baekhyun’s hand. “If you want me to leave, I’ll leave. Just tell me what I should do.”

“Stay,” Baekhyun says before Junmyeon can even begin to formulate what he wants. Though, given the erection working itself to fullness beneath Jongdae’s ass, he’s fairly certain that was his answer as well.

Jongdae smiles and Junmyeon wants nothing more in that moment than to see that lightness so close up for years and years to come. Without thinking, he reaches up to touch Jongdae’s cheek, which seems to startle both of them. Jongdae lets out a small laugh, then closes the minuscule space between them, licking his lips quickly before pressing them to Junmyeon’s.

Junmyeon closes his eyes, his hands fumbling for a place to rest before finally settling on Jongdae’s nearly-uncovered hips. It’s a chaste kiss, for about three seconds, before Jongdae hungers for something deeper. A tiny moan gets trapped at the back of Junmyeon’s throat as Jongdae’s tongue comes into contact with his; he can’t remember the last time he tasted someone else like this. It doesn’t take much longer for the last of Junmyeon’s resolve to slip away and leave him with nothing more than an intense desire to consume this boy.

His hands slide down Jongdae’s firm thighs for a moment before he breaks their kiss to look at him. Jongdae’s eyes scan him for some kind of sign that something is wrong, but since he finds nothing, he moves to dive back in for another kiss.

“Wait,” Baekhyun says, placing a hand against Jongdae’s chest to stop him. Guilt starts to take the place of Junmyeon’s fear as he remembers Baekhyun is still there; generally speaking, he’s only ever been so quiet while sleeping, and even then there’s the occasional mumble.

Baekhyun moves closer to them, rising up onto his knees, and before Junmyeon can ask him what he’s doing, he finds himself attached to his best friend at the lips. It’s different than kissing Jongdae, which he hadn’t really anticipated. He thinks of all the nights they’d spent complaining about past lovers and everything that’d gone wrong, and it becomes more than obvious that Baekhyun was actually listening. His kiss is soft. Slow. Careful. The warmth in his cheeks has to feel uncomfortable to Baekhyun’s hands but the other boy doesn’t seem bothered at all.

Jongdae’s laugh, quiet and heavy, fills the emptiness of the air and Junmyeon breaks away from Baekhyun a moment at the feel of Jongdae’s mouth against his neck. He starts to question, but Baekhyun rather immediately draws him back in. He kisses as if he’d been waiting for years to do it. Junmyeon smiles.

“This is nice,” Jongdae hums against Junmyeon’s jaw. He kisses again, dragging some, before cutting in on their kiss to take Baekhyun’s mouth against his. Baekhyun lets out a small whine, but only for a second, until he commits fully to kissing Jongdae.

It had never happened before that two people were making out centimeters from Junmyeon’s face, both of them basically in his lap, and Junmyeon momentarily blanks on what to do. Baekhyun, were he not busy sucking and biting at Jongdae’s lower lip, would mention he was overthinking things to the point of forgetting to enjoy them. Sighing, Junmyeon pushes away any ideas about the right thing to do and decides to just feel his way through. Rather literally.

He moves his hand to rest against Jongdae’s thigh and prays that the other two can’t hear his pounding heart. A few false starts pass before he brings himself to slip his hand into Jongdae’s borrowed boxers. The younger boy gasps against Baekhyun’s mouth, breaking away long enough to give Junmyeon a forceful kiss before he goes back to Baekhyun.

Junmyeon concentrates on the slow drag of his hand against Jongdae’s length, on the tensing of Jongdae’s abs with each touch. His fingertips graze Jongdae’s pubic hair for a moment, then down along his sack before carefully dragging against his inner thigh. Jongdae laughs, muffled against Baekhyun’s lips, and the sound makes Junmyeon smile.

“Are you ticklish?” he asks as he moves his fingers again to force that laugh again.

“Not most places,” Jongdae mutters as his nips his way along Baekhyun’s neck.

“But here,” Junmyeon nods. “Noted.”

“Are you planning on writing a research paper on me?” Jongdae teases.

“Maybe.”

Junmyeon watches Jongdae pull Baekhyun’s shirt off and almost starts to panic that his pajama pants would be next to go. He’d seen Baekhyun naked plenty of times, but naked and hard? Not so much. He looks away for a moment before giving up any pretense of not wanting to see. Baekhyun slides down against the bed as he grips Jongdae by his messy dark hair, kissing him with an urgency that Junmyeon found himself envying.

Baekhyun wiggles his pajamas down some as Jongdae slides them off the rest of the way. He smiles at Junmyeon for a second before tossing the pants onto his head. Junmyeon groans for a moment and untangles himself from Baekhyun’s pants in time to see Jongdae straddle his stomach. Jongdae leans in, kissing Baekhyun again with a hand cupped against the crook of Baekhyun’s neck.

Not staring at Baekhyun’s thighs, at his hard-on laying against his stomach, proves difficult for Junmyeon, and he eventually gives up pretending there, too. He slips closer, leaned against Jongdae some, but can’t quite bring himself to touch his friend. His hand hovers for a few seconds before he settles on turning to give Jongdae’s bicep a squeeze.

“Are you avoiding him?” Jongdae asks. Junmyeon freezes. “I’m sure he wants you to touch him. Don’t you, bartender.”

“Yes,” Baekhyun says, almost hoarse. He squirms some beneath Jongdae in the hopes of getting any kind of friction going. “Please…” Their eyes meet, and Junmyeon tries to think of a time Baekhyun has ever looked at him with that much longing before. He’s not sure _anyone_ ever has.

Junmyeon moves to sit between Baekhyun’s legs. Any second, his heart might bounce straight up out of his throat, but he manages to put a hand around Baekhyun’s member without shaking too badly. The moan that fills the room makes his own hard-on twitch. Baekhyun doesn’t have the same tight abs as Jongdae, but they make sense for Baekhyun—soft, pale, homey.

_Homey._

Junmyeon shakes the word from his head and leans in to plant a kiss against that pliable stomach, and he enjoys the momentary tensing beneath his lips. He kisses a little lower, breathing in Baekhyun’s scent, a mixture of his aloe soap and a natural, light smell. He tightens his grip on Baekhyun’s thighs to keep him from squirming so much as his lips move to plant delicate pecks against Baekhyun’s length. The moaning sounds more muffled this time, and Junmyeon looks up to stare at Jongdae’s back, tense as he works his hips forward and back again slowly. Jongdae lets his head fall back, a groan filling the air, before turning some to look at Junmyeon.

“Keep going,” Jongdae says in a pant. He gives Junmyeon a reassuring nod before focusing back on watching Baekhyun suck him.

Junmyeon watches them, finding himself more turned on than jealous. Without thinking much about it, his hand starts to stroke Baekhyun in the same rhythm as Jongdae’s thrusting. There’s a chain reaction of sounds—Baekhyun moans beneath Junmyeon’s touch, which just makes Jongdae groan louder at the humming sending vibrations along his dick and radiating through his body. After a few more strokes, Junmyeon leans in and takes a tentative lick. Baekhyun jerks a little, and Jongdae hisses.

“Ow,” he laughs some.

“Sorry,” Baekhyun mumbles before there’s nothing but slurping and moaning again.

Junmyeon tries again, this time tapping Baekhyun on the thigh as a small warning. He takes his time, carefully tonguing the head for a while before taking Baekhyun into his mouth further. This time, there’s no bucking, just a quiet satisfied hum. Junmyeon’s free hand makes a home on his own erection, spreading his precum around with his thumb before starting a frantic stroke.

“Jesus fuck, Baek, you’re so good,” Jongdae moans, almost sings. “Oh, fuck… _fuck_ …”

Junmyeon feels more movement, and when he looks up for a moment he sees Jongdae moving off of Baekhyun’s chest. Instead, Jongdae reaches out to Junmyeon, pets his hair briefly before gripping tightly to pull him off of Baekhyun’s dick. And right over onto his own. The switch takes seconds and despite being at the center of it, Junmyeon almost doesn’t register it happening. He groans some and moves closer to Jongdae to be a bit more comfortable as Jongdae thrusts his hips up into Junmyeon’s mouth.

The hair pulling hurts a little more than Jongdae fucking his mouth, and Junmyeon can’t seem to find a reason to complain about either. He closes his eyes, moves his hand down to start stroking himself. He manages a couple of strokes before feeling Baekhyun’s slender fingers take over, Baekhyun’s hips against his ass, Baekhyun’s cock sliding against his thigh. Junmyeon’s head spins from all the stimulation and Jongdae’s amused chuckle just makes it that much worse.

“You look really sexy like that,” Jongdae says, and Junmyeon considers pulling away to look back. Instead, he sucks his cheeks in more and makes Jongdae cry out, which makes Baekhyun thrust against him faster.

He feels his climax on the horizon, bubbling toward the surface with every stroke and thrust from his best friend. His hands clench Jongdae’s hips harder and he lets out a moan as he comes. Baekhyun’s breath hitches as his own orgasm starts, leaving him leaned over against Junmyeon’s back as he sprays against the sheets. It takes a few more thrusts before Jongdae comes as well. He holds Junmyeon’s head still, mumbling things that Junmyeon doesn’t have the energy to decipher. He does his best to swallow what he can, letting the rest fall from his mouth and onto Jongdae’s thighs.

“Wow,” Jongdae laughs some, running a hand through his hair after a moment of silence. “Shit.”

Junmyeon shifts to sit up. He touches his mouth briefly and considers complaining, but before he can, Baekhyun is on him again, licking and kissing away any errant cum on his mouth and chin.

“Fuck, it’s late, I should get going,” Jongdae says, “even though you’re really trying to kickstart round two.”

Baekhyun pulls back and gives Junmyeon a shy smile before looking at Jongdae. “Did you need a ride?” he asks.

Jongdae stares, then laughs a little. “That’s a trap,” he teases, getting off of the bed. “I’ll see myself out. No need to get up. I’ll text you, okay?”

“Sure,” Junmyeon nods. He smiles a little as Jongdae pulls his head toward him and kisses it, then smiles even more after Jongdae does the same to Baekhyun. It’s almost a little depressing to watch him leave.

——

“…So that happened,” Baekhyun says.

They sit in Baekhyun’s room, on Baekhyun’s stripped bed, leaned back against the headboard hours after Jongdae leaves. Junmyeon crosses his outstretched legs at the ankle as Baekhyun sits cross-legged, his hands folded in his lap. Junmyeon smiles at him. The messy hair, the flushed skin, the slightly puffy lips…Baekhyun is beautiful like this and it makes Junmyeon feel a little strange to even think that.

They’re careful not to touch each other, although Baekhyun’s knee grazes dangerously closely to Junmyeon’s thigh. Junmyeon laughs quietly, considering that for once, Baekhyun is the one who can’t look at him rather than vice versa.

“Yep.”

“So…”

“So.”

Awkwardness between them rarely ever happened. Most of their silences were comfortable, and any real conflicts got squashed with haste. This time feels different. The shift in their relationship almost takes on an actual physical form.

Junmyeon smiles to himself and reaches to comb Baekhyun’s hair down into place rather than let him continue to look like he’d just woken up from a fifty-year slumber. Baekhyun meets his eyes momentarily before starting to blush, but rather than pull away, he lifts a hand to hold on to Junmyeon’s wrist. Junmyeon pauses, and Baekhyun slides Junmyeon’s hand down some toward his mouth, kissing the palm. Somehow, that feels more intimate than everything they’d just done.


	6. Lesson 6: Know Your Limits

An hour into work and Junmyeon can’t focus on anything other than his own exhaustion. Not much needs to be done at the moment, considering it’s not tax season and he’d spent the previous weekend working on any possible loose ends with several clients. With no one reporting any new expenses or asking any questions since then, he’s at least been able to spend the workday watching puppies sleeping on the internet.

That cuteness didn’t fully distract him as he’d hoped; every now and then, in the space between the previous video and the next, his mind would wander back to thoughts of Jongdae’s hands on him, and Baekhyun’s mouth…He sighs and clicks another video, trying not to just put his head down at his desk and take a nap. Not that anyone would notice or mind; Junmyeon just didn’t want to feel guilty about sleeping on the job.

As senior entertainment accountant at Starlight Entertainment, Junmyeon has a lot of responsibility, but sometimes not a lot to do. Most of the time, he simply decides which of the other accountants will handle things for which artists, double-checks their work, and bears the brunt of the yelling when things go wrong. The promotion was nice enough, even if it did feel a bit odd to be the one telling his friends what to do.

He jumps at the suddenness of the knock at his office door, which just makes Do Kyungsoo laugh quietly as he sees himself in.

“Are you looking at porn?” he asks, taking a seat in a chair in front of Junmyeon’s desk. Even with the answer being no, Junmyeon finds himself blushing. “You look out of it. Is everything okay?”

“Uh…” It isn’t, and Junmyeon considers saying as much. But he has no idea how to broach the subject of what happened the day before while on the clock. He can hardly think about it without blushing even more. He squirms in his seat. “Yeah, yeah it’s fine. Just tired.”

“Sure.” Kyungsoo’s skepticism is hard to miss, both in tone and his large round eyes. He doesn’t press, but he never does; Junmyeon appreciates that most days. “Well, it’s my turn to pick lunch and I just wondered if you had any input. I was thinking Chinese today.”

“You think Chinese every day,” Junmyeon says, which elicits a small smile from Kyungsoo. “I don’t care. Get me anything.”

“Are you mad at me about something?” Kyungsoo asks. His wide eyed stare makes Junmyeon feel a little guilty for being so non-committal with his replies; it was like yelling at a kitten.

“No, I’m sorry, it was just…a long weekend,” Junmyeon says as he attempts to dance around being more detailed.

“What did the loud one do this time?”

Junmyeon laughs some. Despite their bickering, he’s Kyungsoo and Baekhyun enjoy each other’s company, even without him being around to force interaction. The smile on Kyungsoo’s face lends credibility to that theory.

“It’s…complicated,” Junmyeon says.

“Did you finally sleep together?” The abruptness of the question makes Junmyeon choke on his water. “That must be yes. Well that only took six decades.”

“We didn’t—I haven’t…” Junmyeon sighs heavily. “Do you remember I mentioned that boy from the club?” Kyungsoo nods, his sideswept bangs flopping into his face briefly. “Well. I almost ran him over yesterday and he wound up coming home with us and things got weird and now I have all these feelings that I’m trying to ignore by looking at puppies. Stop staring at me like that.”

Kyungsoo tries to hide his widening smile by lowering his head as instructed, letting out a low gruff laugh. “I don’t need details but…all three of you, then?”

This time, Junmyeon nods. “But there wasn’t any…I mean, nobody put their key in anybody’s lock.”

“There should be awards for awkwardness,” Kyungsoo laughs more. “You would win all of them.”

“But I don’t know how to feel now.” Junmyeon ignores the insult. “I’m exhausted, and I sort of ran out without saying bye to him, and I don’t want to go home because what do I even say?”

“’Hello, annoying jerk, what’s for dinner?’” Kyungsoo says in his best Junmyeon voice, which is not very good at all.

“I’m serious,” Junmyeon sighs. “This was not well thought-out at all.”

“Since when do you do things spontaneously?” Kyungsoo asks.

“Since last night, and also shut up. Tell me what I’m supposed to do here.” Junmyeon stares at Kyungsoo, eyes pleading for some kind of guidance. He’s met with a simple shrug. He sighs. “Just get me egg rolls, then.”

——

Junmyeon turns the key as slowly as he can before taking things even slower while pushing the door open. It’s nearly midnight. His insistence upon avoiding home led to heading out to dinner and drinks with Kyungsoo and his new boyfriend, a slender dancer named Jongin with a shy smile who stuck to Kyungsoo like a limpet on a rock. He felt like a third wheel but that was better than coming home to catch Baekhyun on his way to work.

He tosses his keys onto the end table and shrugs his way out of his jacket with a groan. Normally, their apartment had the decency to not wobble so much, so the fact that things were going crooked made him fairly annoyed.

“Next time, you should cut yourself off,” he says with a nod, his hair dipping into his face. He keeps a hand along the wall, careful not to bump any of the photos they’d hung as he tries to guide himself to his room.

The shadow in the hallway gives him pause, and he searches his brain for Baekhyun’s schedule to decide if this is a panic situation or his roommate skulking around.

“…Do you need help?”

Junmyeon squeezes an eye shut as if that might help him focus better on the shadow heading toward him. The voice isn’t Baekhyun, at least as far as Junmyeon can tell, and once the light from the living room hits the shadow, he jumps.

“What the fu—” He catches himself, then just stares at Jongdae. Jongdae, who is in his apartment. Jongdae, who is shirtless in his apartment with wet hair. “Why?”

“Why…am I asking?” Jongdae attempts to get some clarification, eyebrow raised.

“No, why…here. You.”

Jongdae smiles. “Why am I here?” he guesses. “I got in a fight with my roommate and Baekhyun said I could come over. He said you’d be home soon but then it got pretty late so I was lying down and I heard the key…Seriously, do you want me to help you to your room? You’re not going to puke, are you?”

It takes Junmyeon a few beats to make a decision on that, but he shakes his head no eventually. Jongdae’s outstretched arm goes ignored as Jongdae slides his way to his room. He crawls onto his bed with a groan, slapping the latest issue of a comic out of his way.

“I can get you some water if you need it,” Jongdae says from the doorway. “Or I can make you my mom’s world-famous quick-sober smoothie. You know what, I’ll just do that.”

“Kay.”

Junmyeon rolls onto his back to stare up at his ceiling before closing his eyes again. He wanted to text Baekhyun and yell about leaving a stranger in their apartment, but he couldn’t bring himself to lift his arm to look at the phone. Coming home to Jongdae pretty much negated his attempts at avoidance and he considered going ahead with cursing this kid out.

His shoulder shakes and he opens his eyes to see Jongdae far too close to him. Jongdae smiles and leans back again, standing up straight.

“You passed out,” he says as he holds a glass with a rather suspicious-looking green smoothie in it. “Drink.”

“What is this?” Junmyeon mumbles, sitting up. “What time is it?”

“It’s 2:15,” Jongdae says. He wiggles the glass in his hand. “I kept trying to wake you. You were snoring. Drink it.”

The last time Junmyeon accepted something without delving into what exactly the contents were, he and Baekhyun wound up with one hell of a ‘let’s never speak of this again’ story. He sighs some, staring at the glass, then decides to take it.

“What’s in it?” he asks.

“Kim family secret.” Jongdae grins widely enough that his eyes practically disappear, and Junmyeon looks off to ignore how adorable that is. “But I promise it’s not poison. Or some kind of drug.”

“I know where the weapons are and I’ve got cops on speed dial.” Junmyeon gives a pointed nod before taking a sip of the smoothie. Almost immediately, it threatens to make a return visit. “Oh dear God, why.”

“Right, don’t sip it,” Jongdae chuckles. “You have to chug unless you enjoy your mouth being filled with offensiveness.”

Junmyeon groans, then holds his nose with his free hand to chug the demonic drink. A dry heave works its way up, and he coughs and shakes his head quickly.

“Oh that was disgusting,” he whines. The glaring doesn’t curb Jongdae’s laughter, though, and the younger boy flops back against the bed to roll some. “It wasn’t that funny.”

“Your face!” Jongdae laughs. “It was exactly this funny. You make weird expressions.”

“Get out of my house,” Junmyeon says. The smile accompanying it kills any possible attempt at being serious. The room isn’t teetering anymore, but he decides to chalk that up to his impromptu nap and not Jongdae’s evil smoothie. “What happened with your roommate?”

Jongdae’s laughter dies down at that, and he stills on the bed. “We broke up,” he says.

“Sorry, what?”

It had never happened that Junmyeon cheated on a partner; the majority of the time, he was the one left feeling less than and undesirable. And he certainly had never been the other man. Something about that felt wrong. And a tiny bit thrilling. He shushes that part of himself up.

“I was living with this guy,” Jongdae says as he draws his knees up. “It’s been shitty for months but he got pretty pissed at me for not being home when I was supposed to yesterday and so here I am, effectively homeless.”

Jongdae smiles as he meets eyes with Junmyeon, but there’s a sadness just below the surface that makes Junmyeon want to kiss it away. He frowns, then reaches out and touches Jongdae’s cheek carefully.

“It’s fine,” Jongdae sighs. “I just panicked, I guess, since I couldn’t get hold of my friends. And so I texted your roommate and he invited me over. Are you mad?”

“No,” Junmyeon shakes his head. “I’m sorry. This is kind of my fault.”

“Not really,” Jongdae says as he sits up. “I wanted to be here. I could’ve told you to take me home. I could’ve left early. Like I said, things have been shitty for a while. You’re cooler anyway. At least we’re in the same age group.”

Curiosity rests on Junmyeon’s lips but he can’t quite bring himself to ask more about this kid’s life. He lies down beside Jongdae to watch the ceiling along with him, and he smiles slightly as Jongdae drapes a leg over his.

“I’ll be out of your way in the morning,” Jongdae says. “I’ll go stay on Chanyeol’s couch for a while until I find a job and get my own place. It’s better like this anyway. Even though I’ll definitely miss the money.”

“Money?”

“He’s got a lot,” Jongdae says, though it’s almost swallowed by a yawn. “So I guess we sort of had an arrangement…But it wasn’t fun anymore.”

It occurs to Junmyeon that he’d heard of arrangements like that but hadn’t ever, to his knowledge, met anyone involved in such a thing. He shelves all of his questions as Jongdae rolls over, positioning himself against Junmyeon’s side. Junmyeon studies Jongdae’s eyes, glassy with almost-tears and lidded by tiredness, and finds himself smiling.

“But I’m fun,” he says.

Jongdae smiles. “You’re fun,” he nods before leaning in to kiss Junmyeon. “You and the bartender.”

“Even without the wig?”

“Well with a one out of one success rate without the wig compared to zero out of one with it, definitely,” Jongdae says.

Junmyeon glances over to his dresser, at the wig sitting on its stand, then returns to looking at Jongdae with rapidly flushing cheeks. “It could be one out of two one day, maybe,” he says after mustering all of his courage to be bold.

The glassiness in Jongdae’s eyes morphs into something far happier. “What about today?”


	7. Lesson 7: Permission Is Paramount

In his head, Junmyeon practices what he’ll say when calling in to work in the morning as Jongdae’s careful hand dots lipstick onto his face. No one else had ever put his makeup on for him in his short time actually wearing makeup, and it’s certainly something he can get used to. His eyes fixate on every detail of Jongdae that they can. His thin lips with a hint of a part as he concentrates. His Adam’s apple dancing along with every swallow, every syllable. The faint idea of stubble along his jaw. Junmyeon forgets all about needing to call in to work, more concerned with Jongdae’s pinky dragging across his lips.

“I helped my sister’s friends with their prom makeup,” Jongdae mutters. He leans away for a moment to grab a tissue. “My sister made me learn how to do makeup when I was little just in case she ever broke both her arms and needed the assistance.” Junmyeon lets out a breath of a laugh at the thought. “So her friends knew I could do it pretty well, and I decided to charge them for it. Made four hundred bucks.”

“You were a little entrepreneur,” Junmyeon says while trying not to move his lips too much.  
Jongdae’s mouth curls upwards some, and he rakes Junmyeon’s hair back. “I just don’t like being taken advantage of,” he says. “And I knew they’d try and make me do it for free. You look amazing right now.”

“Not really,” Junmyeon blushes. He can count on one finger the number of times anyone had ever said that about him.

Jongdae raises a brow, then unlocks his phone and hands it to Junmyeon. Junmyeon stares down at the screen, at the front-facing camera, at his face with the smoky brown eye makeup and coral lips. It’s him, obviously, but it feels a bit foreign. He twitches a corner of his mouth up just to make sure the image on the phone does the same.

“With a little styling, you wouldn’t even need the wig,” Jongdae says. “You’d look a little masculine, but I know girls with this same kind of cut and length.”

He slides off of the bed as Junmyeon occupies himself with making awkward faces at the camera. When he looks up again, Jongdae is approaching with the wig. His heart speeds up. Jongdae climbs onto the bed and straddles his lap, brushing Junmyeon’s hair back again before carefully putting the wig into place. 

“There’s a wig cap—”

“Shh.” Jongdae focuses all of his attention on putting the wig on perfectly, then sits back against Junmyeon’s legs once he’s satisfied, a soft smile on his face. “Wow.”

“Is that good wow or bad wow?” Junmyeon tries to laugh but it just makes him sound a bit scared.

“You really have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?” Jongdae asks. Junmyeon can’t answer, although he’s aware that in not answering, he’s actually answered. Jongdae’s hands come to rest on Junmyeon’s thighs as he leans closer into Junmyeon. “You should see yourself the way Baekhyun sees you.”

“…What?” Guilt barrels its way into Junmyeon’s chest at that and he curses the unwelcome intrusion.

“He’s so in love with you it’s depressing,” Jongdae says. “And I think you feel the same. I mean, you two live together, without any attempts at seeking out partners, why?”

“Well…You’re here, aren’t you?” Junmyeon says.

Jongdae smiles wider. “I’m also putting a flame under both your asses,” he says. “How much longer would it have taken either of you to make a move? I should get an award, honestly.”

“Did you just put me in a wig to talk to me about my roommate?”

“No. I put you in a wig to blow you,” Jongdae says, and Junmyeon feels a familiar heat in his gut. “But right now, we’re talking about your roommate because it’s pretty relevant. I’m not going to do anything with you, with either of you, if you think maybe you’d like to just be the two of you. But as it stands, your roommate’s pretty game for this whole three’s company set up.”

“You talked to him about—”

“It came up,” Jongdae says. “When I came over and explained things.”

The warmth turns to lead instead and Junmyeon momentarily wonders if his mascara is waterproof. “Did you have sex with him?”

“No,” Jongdae shakes his head. “We just talked. I don’t want to cross any lines until we all put some rules into place.”

“So…we’re not going to have sex now?”

“Do you want to?” Jongdae asks. Junmyeon gives an incredibly feeble nod, and he shifts in place some as Jongdae’s gaze drops to his growing hard-on. “I’m flattered. But not now. Now, I want you to admit how you feel about the bartender.”

“I don’t know,” Junmyeon says. And it’s true; over the years with Baekhyun, his feelings became so convoluted that he started to ignore them altogether. Only with Jongdae’s interference did he start to think about all of the maybes that lie in crossing that line. “I…care a lot about him.”

“If someone came along and proposed to him tomorrow, how would you feel?” Just the thought of it fills Junmyeon with a deep sadness. Jongdae chuckles some. “Your face right now. Text him. Tell him. Then ask him if I can suck your dick.”

Junmyeon stares for a moment, then reaches for his phone with shaky hands.

_So hey this is awkward and I know you’re working right now but that kid is here and I’m supposed to be telling you that I’m in love with you which let’s really not make a big deal of it but also he wants to know if he’s allowed to blow me. I’m so sorry for all of this._

It takes less than a minute for Baekhyun to respond: _I’m in love with you too and please god let him, you need it. You’re way too tense. Take pictures for me._

“Fuck,” Junmyeon whispers.

Once some of his blood manages to make its way back to his brain, he snaps a selfie of himself all made up and sends it Baekhyun’s way with the caption I may be in over my head.

Jongdae moves even closer, nuzzling at Junmyeon’s neck with a pleased little hum. “You’re gorgeous,” he mumbles, and the vibration of his lips against Junmyeon’s skin makes Junmyeon shudder. Jongdae slides a hand from Junmyeon’s thigh onto his bulge. “And you’re hard. Can I?”

Junmyeon can hardly breathe. “He says yes,” he nods a little, vision going hazy as Jongdae squeezes him slowly.

The phone vibrates again, but he doesn’t reach to check the text. It’s jarring, for a second, that Jongdae smells like Baekhyun, until he remembers the boy used Baekhyun’s shower and, by default, his soap. Somehow, that hint of Baekhyun’s presence makes Junmyeon harder.

“Do you have dresses here?” Jongdae asks quietly in between nips at Junmyeon’s skin. When Junmyeon nods, he laughs a little. “Put one on for me.”

Jongdae moves off of Junmyeon, and Junmyeon’s legs are jelly as he crosses the room toward his closet. He isn’t sure if it’s the residual alcohol or the rush of hormones or that damned smoothie but the spinning returns for a moment. He pauses at a black sleeveless and backless dress that Baekhyun had picked out, then smiles some and pulls it on. Seeing Jongdae stare at him with such open desire startles Junmyeon for a moment when he turns back toward the bed, and he tries not to blush too much as he watches Jongdae’s hand working his dick up to full mast.

A simple flex of Jongdae’s fingers beckons Junmyeon back to bed, and he climbs in to sit beside Jongdae. He’d never done anything like this while dressed as a woman before; it stirs something in him that he never even thought might be there. He barely has time to get comfortable before Jongdae is on him again, all lips and tongue and a slow, almost painfully so, grind of his hips against Junmyeon’s.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jongdae mutters, Junmyeon’s lower lip between his teeth. One of his hands snakes around to Junmyeon’s back and a gasp escapes at the feeling of Jongdae’s chilly hand against his skin. “Tell me you want me to blow you.”

“Yes,” Junmyeon says, stepping on Jongdae’s sentence before it’s even finished. “Please. I want…” He groans as Jongdae slides down and pulls his briefs along with him. The fan overhead makes the precum cool almost uncomfortably on his cock. His head swims with anticipation, watching Jongdae, feeling Jongdae, kiss along his lower stomach, inner thigh, nosing around but never actually touching. Nothing in Junmyeon’s life has felt as torturous. “Suck me, Jongdae. Don’t make me beg.”

“Oh, that might be fun.” Jongdae’s short laugh sends hot air against Junmyeon’s cock and he groans. “You’re fun to fuck with.”

Junmyeon starts to protest but Jongdae’s tongue against the slit of his dick makes him nearly forget his name, let alone why he’s complaining in the first place. When the rest of Jongdae’s mouth closes around his head, Junmyeon thinks for a second he might pass out. Jongdae curls his fingers around the base of Junmyeon’s cock, his pinky brushing against skin for a moment before he starts to stroke. Junmyeon tries to keep his hips still, to avoid jerking his hips up into Jongdae’s mouth, even though every inch of him is screaming to fuck this boy’s mouth until he gags. Normally such forceful thoughts get tamped down immediately, but Junmyeon thinks, or maybe hopes, that Jongdae might not mind it.

With a small smile, Junmyeon reaches to touch Jongdae’s cheek, to feel the sucked-in skin, and finds that warmth in him starting to radiate at the feeling of his cock working in and out of Jongdae’s mouth. Jongdae hums some, moved a little faster as he’s spurred on by Junmyeon’s quiet moans. Junmyeon, remembering Baekhyun’s request, picks his phone up.

“Do you mind if I send a picture to Baekhyun?” he asks, although it takes some time to get the full sentence out amid his groans. He whines at the loss of contact as Jongdae releases his cock with one lengthy drag over the head.

“You’re asking me?”

“Why…wouldn’t I?” Junmyeon asks. “Kind of a violation if I don’t, right?”

A light sparks in Jongdae’s eyes. “I don’t mind,” he says, and Junmyeon nearly comes right then as he stares at Jongdae’s swollen, glistening lips.

He waits for Junmyeon to take him all the way in again, then unlocks the phone and snaps a few pictures. Jongdae’s hands, now free from stroking duty, find their way to Junmyeon’s stomach, and Junmyeon works harder to keep his hips from bucking. One of Jongdae’s hands slides down to give Junmyeon’s balls a slow squeeze, middle finger teasing against the taut skin beneath them. The other feels around blindly for a moment before taking Junmyeon’s hand and placing it on his head. Junmyeon, momentarily baffled, simply stares, until Jongdae uses Junmyeon’s hand to tug at his own hair.

Junmyeon thinks he might actually see stars.

The bit of him that’s too scared to be rough slips away as he grips harder, and he gives a tiny test nudge down. Jongdae’s moan gets louder at that, empowering Junmyeon to try it again, and again, until eventually Jongdae doesn’t have to move his head at all with Junmyeon doing it for him. Junmyeon finds a great sense of accomplishment with setting this pace, with Jongdae being so willing. So pliable. He thrusts a few times, finding that added movement to be too much as he comes with a yell into Jongdae’s mouth. He doesn’t have time to feel guilty about the lack of warning.

He holds Jongdae’s head still against him, his cock still buried fairly deep in the boy’s mouth. Jongdae swallows quickly and the extra movements, the extra tightness, lends to Junmyeon sputtering one last weak shot before he finally pulls Jongdae back. His hand stays in Jongdae’s hair, though, and they do nothing more than watch each other. A satisfaction in Jongdae’s eyes, his lazy smile, fills Junmyeon with something warm and comforting. Happiness? He snaps a picture, then pulls Jongdae up and into a kiss, his own bitter saltiness stirring into his mouth.

“Thank you,” he mumbles against Jongdae.

“Thank you,” Jongdae says. He kisses the corner of Junmyeon’s mouth. “We have to fix your lipstick before Baekhyun gets home so he can see how pretty you are.”

Junmyeon feels himself growing hard again at that.


	8. Lesson 8: Make Sure All Hands Are Accounted For

It’s nearly six when Baekhyun’s key jangles in the lock, and Junmyeon moves to sit up at the sound of the door shutting. His legs feel heavy, and he looks to notice Jongdae practically pinning him down. He’s not sure when or how they fell asleep, but it feels less awkward than he thought it might. That’s definitely a little terrifying.

He slides out of Jongdae’s grip and pads his way down the hall. Baekhyun spots him with a start, then laughs quietly after a few beats of staring.

“You look like someone’s drunk aunt at a wedding reception right now,” he comments as he grabs a glass from the kitchen cabinet.

Junmyeon blinks, then reaches up and slides the wig off with some embarrassment. “How was work?” he asks as Baekhyun dances around him. It’s weird that he’s so careful about not touching him, but Junmyeon doesn’t ask.

“Terrible,” Baekhyun sighs. “Thank God I don’t have to go back until Thursday. Honestly it’s like these storms just make everyone loud and wrong constantly.”

“Do you want French toast or waffles today?” Junmyeon asks as he moves toward the fridge. Baekhyun side-steps him rather obviously. “Okay. What’s wrong?”

“What? Nothing.”

“Are you mad, or…?” Junmyeon asks. “This isn’t normal. You come home and you whine at me about drunks and you practically hang off of me while I make breakfast. So what’s different today?”

“Well I came home to you in a dress, that’s kind of different,” Baekhyun shrugs. He doesn’t look at Junmyeon. “I dunno.Sorry, I’m being an idiot. Hello, Junma. French toast.”

His hug feels awkward. Stiff. But Junmyeon doesn’t push for more. He kisses Baekhyun’s head and moves around the kitchen to start up breakfast.

“Is it the text thing?” Junmyeon guesses eventually when there’s too much silence between them. “It…I mean. I guess that’s a little awkward.” It’s easier to speak to Baekhyun about things like feelings when they don’t have to look at each other, Junmyeon decides as he focuses on whipping the eggs. “I guess…maybe he’s right. Maybe we’ve always been more than friends.”

“You owe me back pay, then,” Baekhyun says. “That’s approximately six hundred blowjobs.”

“In one night?”

Junmyeon peeks over his shoulder to smile at Baekhyun, to see Baekhyun’s squinty grin as he clutches his mug of tea. The jolt in his heart, one he’d ignored for so many years, freely surfaces, and it feels much better than he anticipated. The awkwardness fades between them and Junmyeon enjoys how normal, how comfortable things are. He manages to not burn a single piece of French toast this time and slides them onto a plate to take over to Baekhyun.

“Is this where we start saying ‘I love you’ all the time and making googly eyes and calling each other baby and boo?” Baekhyun asks. Part of Junmyeon thinks maybe he wants the answer to be yes despite his mocking tone.

“Do you want me to call you baby?” Junmyeon asks. The blush that comes across Baekhyun’s cheeks makes his insides flutter.

“Don’t be weird,” Baekhyun mumbles into his mug.

“You started it.” He pauses. “I love you. Just so it’s out there, in verbal form, but I don’t have to say it again if you don’t wan—”

Junmyeon nearly drops his plate as Baekhyun latches on to him, their mouths fitting together in a way Junmyeon had only dreamed about, and even then staunchly denied it. He puts his fork down and leans back to accept Baekhyun into his lap, the younger boy scooting his hips against Junmyeon’s. Baekhyun’s hands hold on to Junmyeon’s cheeks as he lets out a soft hum, and Junmyeon wants to taste this maple-y kiss for as long as he possibly can.

His hands move up from Baekhyun’s thighs and he hesitates before allowing himself to touch his ass. Another hum vibrates out of Baekhyun, paired with a rather obvious roll of his hips.

“You’re not wearing underwear,” Baekhyun notes with a small laugh. “What the hell did you two do while I was at work?” This time, Junmyeon is the one to blush. “You need to eat and shower before work. You smell like a locker room.”

“I’m calling in,” Junmyeon says. Baekhyun arches an eyebrow. “I’m really tired and I don’t quite feel like looking at Kyungsoo after…I mean it just makes me feel dirty. Like he can see everything I’ve done with those giant eyes.”

“I’m pretty sure he can see into other dimensions with those eyes,” Baekhyun nods. His smile softens. “I love you too. Idiot.”

From the hall, Jongdae clears his throat. Junmyeon shifts some to see around Baekhyun as Jongdae comes closer to grab his own breakfast.

“Pretend I’m not here,” he says while averting his eyes. “I see nothing. Just going to eat and go and you two crazy kids can go wild.”

Baekhyun pivots on Junmyeon’s lap, leaning back against his chest. “No, stay,” he says. “Don’t run away already. I just got home! Don’t I get to have fun with you, too?”

Junmyeon swallows a moan, shifting some beneath Baekhyun as his member starts to roar back to life. He spends all of breakfast carefully trying to keep from coming, and quietly cursing Baekhyun and his less-than-sly, deliberate circles of his hips. He tries to still the movements by sliding a hand onto Baekhyun’s high to hold him in place, but that just makes his situation worse. He sighs, resigning himself to having this perpetual hard-on, and lets his hand fall against Baekhyun’s crotch. At least, he decides, he isn’t hard alone.

——

The rules Jongdae poses seem simple enough. Permission is paramount. No sneaking, no lying. Everything is open and honest. Easy.

Discussion doesn’t last long. Baekhyun declares there’s too much talking, not enough kissing, and interrupts Jongdae during his third time asking if they had any questions. It had never really occurred to Junmyeon that it might be a turn-on to watch other people making love, but staring at Jongdae and Baekhyun tangled together, writhing with each other with undulating hips and unfettered moans, he thinks about how easily he could get used to the sight.

He starts to stroke himself back to full hardness, unable to stop staring at the way Baekhyun’s mouth hangs parted, at the flexing of Jongdae’s bicep muscles as he holds himself up above Baekhyun. From the sidelines, he has an opportunity to observe every little detail, and it brings him a thrill that he didn’t realize he wanted. Baekhyun looks to him for a moment and smiles, and that makes his heart thump even more.

The room echoes with Baekhyun’s passionate sighs, his quiet pleas for harder, faster, more, and Junmyeon has to stop his hand to keep from coming already. So many years of accidentally, and not so accidentally, listening to his roommate’s pleasure hadn’t prepared him for listening up close, in the same room, watching him being dry-humped by their…

Junmyeon frowns for a moment as he struggles to think of some kind of label for Jongdae, then even more as he tries to put a name to whatever it was he was doing with Baekhyun now, too. It nags, for a time, until Baekhyun’s sharp nails come to grip his thigh and bring him yelping out of his head.

“ _Fuck_! Shit, wait,” Baekhyun pants as he tries to shirk out from beneath Jongdae to avoid the friction.

“Bad?” Jongdae asks.

“No, no, I just…gimme a minute.”

Baekhyun closes his eyes, relaxes his grip on Junmyeon’s thigh some, and it isn’t until Jongdae’s quiet laughter that Junmyeon realizes he’s taken up petting Baekhyun’s head again. He blushes.

“You two really are ridiculously domestic,” Jongdae comments. “Practically married.”

“No way.” More blushing, as Junmyeon and Baekhyun echo each other, and Jongdae laughs harder.

“Maybe we could pretend one night,” Jongdae says. His hand moves into his lap, starts to squeeze and palm his member through his pants. “You’ve got dresses. You could be the bored housewife…I could be a pool boy…”

“Literally no one has pool boy fantasies anymore,” Baekhyun rolls his eyes. He lifts his foot to gently kick at Jongdae’s side. “Take your pants off.”

“Are you always this pushy?” A laugh wells up in Jongdae as he starts to unbutton his pants as instructed.

“Yes.” Another echo. This time, it doesn’t make Junmyeon feel awkward at all.

Trying to decide where to focus between Junmyeon and Baekhyun both undressing makes Junmyeon’s head swim. The wobbling gets worse as Baekhyun slinks closer, straddling his hips and sitting in his lap with a smile that floats between sly and shy.

“I want you to fuck me,” Baekhyun murmurs, lips pecking at Junmyeon’s temple. A full-bodied shiver overtakes Junmyeon at the realization that he’d been wanting to hear that for years. Baekhyun tongues Junmyeon’s earlobe a few times before easing up to turn his head. “And I want you to watch,” he tells Jongdae.

Junmyeon meets Jongdae’s eyes, and he’s certain he looks just as bewildered as the younger boy. Jongdae shakes off being startled much more quickly, though, and his mouth stretches in a grin as he starts to stroke his length slowly. The slow, careful kisses Baekhyun delivers draws Junmyeon’s attention away from Jongdae. His hands struggle to know where to rest before finally settling on the enticing curve of Baekhyun’s ass again. The ease of kissing Baekhyun still hasn’t gotten less weird.

Slender fingers squeeze their way down Junmyeon’s arm, and he whines some as Baekhyun lets him go.

“You’re not going to cry, right?” Baekhyun asks with a teasing smile. Junmyeon smiles in return and doesn’t even mention the glassiness in Baekhyun’s eyes. He leans forward for another quick kiss, Baekhyun tightening his grip around Junmyeon’s neck. “Jongdae, there’s lube in the top drawer. Get it for me?”

Somehow, the tiny shift from Jongdae leading to Baekhyun doesn’t bother Junmyeon, and given the quickness with which Jongdae finds the lube, he doesn’t seem to mind either. Junmyeon watches him squeeze some out onto his fingers, watches as Jongdae moves so close their thighs touch. Baekhyun gasps into Junmyeon’s ear at the feel of Jongdae’s fingers at his entrance.

This level of intimacy makes Junmyeon feel far too exposed, normally. Normally, the lights would be off and he would be fumbling his way towards an orgasm. Here, with these two, he wants time to slow down. Maybe stop entirely. Anything to prolong the moment. Each push of Jongdae’s fingers into Baekhyun makes Baekhyun hum with desire, his hips rocking forward and catching Junmyeon’s cock against the fabric of the dress he still hadn’t taken off. He moves one of his hands off of Baekhyun’s ass and onto Jongdae’s thigh, rubbing and squeezing and trying desperately to figure out how to ask for more.

Jongdae slides even closer to them as he pushed another finger into Baekhyun, placing kisses against Baekhyun’s shoulder blade and the crook of his neck. His hair tickles Junmyeon’s shoulder, and Junmyeon shifts a fraction to touch Jongdae’s cock as it grazes against his thigh.

“Should I keep going?” The bass in Jongdae’s voice makes Junmyeon shiver again. Baekhyun’s head shakes some as he rises up, pulling away from Jongdae’s fingers and using Junmyeon’s shoulders as leverage.

They stare at each other that way for a while, Baekhyun looking down at Junmyeon with a face that Junmyeon can only guess might really be love. The light overhead makes a kind of halo around Baekhyun, and Junmyeon thinks that he’d be okay with this being the last thing he sees. Or the first thing upon getting to heaven. He smiles, which makes Baekhyun do the same, and their mouths collide again in a sloppy kiss.

Jongdae’s hand curls around Junmyeon’s member and makes him gasp.

“Sit,” Jongdae says, and Junmyeon feels heat against the head of his cock the closer Baekhyun gets to riding him. There’s a quiet hiss as Baekhyun pushes down, barely taking in the head, and it takes some time before there’s more movement again besides Jongdae and his slow strokes and his even slower thrusts against Junmyeon’s thigh. “Keep going, baby.”

The heat and the tightness and the feel of Jongdae’s hand sliding lower as Baekhyun sinks his hips down add up to Junmyeon feeling lightheaded from all of the stimulation. He sighs, closes his eyes, leans his head against Baekhyun’s for some kind of stability as Baekhyun sits flush against his hips. He doesn’t move at first, and neither does Junmyeon as they adjust to each other.

Jongdae and his quiet chorus of _yes_ and _good_ and his hand caressing Junmyeon’s balls are enough to make Junmyeon edge closer to climax without Baekhyun doing a thing. When Baekhyun decides he’s ready, he starts to undulate his hips. Slowly, at first, and then with a more desperate grind that makes Junmyeon groan deep in his throat. Baekhyun curls his arms around Junmyeon’s head to hold him closer and Junmyeon doesn’t even consider complaining about suffocation. His only thoughts are of Baekhyun and how tight and hot and perfect he feels on him.

“Is that good?” Jongdae asks as his hands explore Baekhyun’s back. He’s close enough that Junmyeon feels the puff of his breath against his neck, and he’s practically straddling one of his thighs now. He nods some even though he’s sure Jongdae is talking to Baekhyun. “How do you like fucking yourself on his cock?”

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Baekhyun groans. He leans his head back to rest against Jongdae as his hips move faster. “Fuck…It’s so good…Junma.” Junmyeon gasps at the firmness of Baekhyun yanking his head back by his hair, at how much he finds himself turned on further by it. “You’re good?”

“Yeah,” Junmyeon nods. “Good…I’m close…”

“Yeah?”

That damn little nose scrunch comes back, and Junmyeon fights to hold off on coming so quickly. But then the mewling and grunting and the droplets of sweat rolling from Baekhyun onto Junmyeon and all of Jongdae’s grunts and his hands holding Junmyeon’s thighs still swell together and before Junmyeon can give any sort of warning, he slams his hips up into Baekhyun before holding him still, muffling his cries against Baekhyun’s shoulder.

With his eyes closed, he has no idea whose hand it is stroking Baekhyun to his own climax, but he knows that listening to the two of them exchanging kisses and moans and quiet swears has him feeling like the luckiest boy in a dress on the planet.


	9. Lesson 9: Don't Cook Naked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So heeeeey, somehow I screwed up and failed to upload chapter 7. So you may want to backtrack and read that one before this new chapter. I'm so sorry!

“What’s the most embarrassing thing to happen to you during sex?”

The storms slink back in just before noon, and even though Baekhyun still hasn’t slept after his shift, he’s awake and rolling through question after question. Junmyeon finds comfort in Baekhyun’s head against his hip as he lays back on the bed, smiles some as Baekhyun’s legs rest over Jongdae’s stomach. He doesn’t even mind Jongdae occasionally kicking him as he fidgets.

“I’m not answering that,” Junmyeon laughs a little.

“Well I already know the answer, I could say it for you.”

Baekhyun’s laughter can hardly be contained from behind Junmyeon’s hand. 

“Is it really that bad?” Jongdae smiles. “Somehow I doubt it. What, did you accidentally come too fast once?”

“Shh,” Junmyeon says, laughing as Baekhyun attempts to answer despite his mouth being covered. “No, that’s not it. That’s never happened to me as an adult.”

Jongdae pushes himself upright to stare at Junmyeon through narrowed eyes. “Handcuffs,” he says with a nod. “You lost the keys to cuffs once and were stuck.”

“No.” Junmyeon laughs again, shaking his head. The guessing game intrigues him enough that he almost doesn’t want to actually answer; hearing all of Jongdae’s assumptions is enough. He wrestles with Baekhyun to keep him quiet before letting out a yelp and drawing his hand back quickly. “Ow, you brat! No biting!”

“I couldn’t breathe,” Baekhyun says. “You were trying to kill me.”

“This is genuinely one time where I wasn’t.”

“Would it help if I shared?” Jongdae asks. Junmyeon turns curious eyes to the younger boy, who grins at him with enthusiasm. “My high school principal had me fuck him in his office and his secretary walked in once. And I tried to just…stop, but that didn’t go so well so suddenly there’s cum all over his desk and I got suspended for two weeks but he didn’t know how to explain it to my mom so he just told her I got in a fight.”

“That didn’t happen,” Baekhyun laughs.

“It did!” Jongdae says. “Look up my record, I promise I’m not lying. I’ve never gotten in a fist fight in my life.”

“You have a thing for older men, then.” Junmyeon’s observation is quiet, almost just a thought mumbled aloud. It sinks Jongdae’s smile momentarily, and Junmyeon really, really wants to ask about that roommate situation.

“Junmyeon sprained his dick,” Baekhyun says hurriedly before Junmyeon can clamp a hand over his mouth again.  
Jongdae looks surprised for a second before starting to laugh. “But how…”

“It’s nothing,” Junmyeon says, blushing. “I just. It was awkward and…I don’t want to talk about it.”

“There’s a TV show like that,” Jongdae chuckles. “You should write your story to them.”

“Baek threw up on some dude’s dick,” Junmyeon announces. Baekhyun lets out an indignant shriek from beneath Junmyeon’s hand. “Fair is fair, bartender.”

It takes some effort before Baekhyun can squirm away from Junmyeon. “Okay first of all, I was sick!” he says as an attempt to clear his good name. “It’s not like it was a rookie mistake or some fetish. I was sick. I miscalculated.”

“You two and your fighting is really adorable,” Jongdae smiles. “You must know everything about each other. I’ve never had anybody like that.”

The silence that settles among them almost has a guilty feel to it. Baekhyun does little more than smile sympathetically and kiss Jongdae’s forehead. Junmyeon tries to think about his own life at Jongdae’s age, if he were anywhere near as lonely, but all he can think is that he had Baekhyun. He sighs, then pushes Jongdae’s hair back away from his face.

“How about I make us lunch?” he offers. Jongdae gives a gentle, appreciative smile before curling up with Baekhyun.

Junmyeon has never cooked naked before considering how dangerous it seems, but he figures there’s a first time for everything. He takes his phone with him into the kitchen to let Baekhyun and Jongdae rest, and it’s barely even ten minutes later that Kyungsoo texts him.

_Are you too sick to come in for a bit? Your boss is being a real cock right now and he’s asking for you. Emergency w/ the Kim account._

“For fuck’s sake,” Junmyeon groans. He ignores the text as long as he can, which turns out to be about two minutes.

_I’ll be there in thirty._

——

The emergency with the account—some unaccounted for expenses that none of the junior accountants could make heads or tails of—gets sorted out within an hour of Junmyeon popping in to work. He’s almost grateful for Jongdae and Baekhyun wearing him out, since he definitely looks tired and plausibly sick. When his boss asks him to come into the office, his stomach heaves momentarily and he thinks he may really be ill.

He tries to think about whether or not this was a mistake he should have caught sooner, if he’d screwed up other accounts, if he’d done something else that would get him shitcanned. He starts to apologize just as his boss speaks.

Rather than getting let go, Junmyeon finds himself on the receiving end of a promotion, which comes essentially out of nowhere considering he assumed he was doing a terrible job at leading his team. Somehow, he’s more excited for Kyungsoo to be promoted into the position he’s currently occupying.

Since he’s out anyway, according to his boss, they may as well have some fun and celebrate with a quick drink at a pub nearby after work. Junmyeon tries to text Baekhyun as subtly as possible, but his boss manages to notice.

“Ah, tell the old ball and chain to quit worrying,” he says with a dismissive wave. “Is that who you’re texting?”

“…Something like that, sir,” Junmyeon smiles politely. He can definitely feel Kyungsoo’s eyes on him.

“You’re an adult, you can do what you want,” his boss says. “You’re the man! You don’t have to answer to her.”

A tightening in Junmyeon’s chest makes it hard to dispute. He clutches his phone tighter and tries not to delve into remarks about sexism considering he’d definitely like to keep his job.

“You know, I had this one side fling,” he boss continues, “who thought she could just do whatever she wanted all the time and I had to tell her, ‘Look, as long as I’m paying for your every whim, you’re gonna listen to what I tell you, understand?’ They just have no respect!”

“I am so uncomfortable right now,” Kyungsoo mutters, glancing to Junmyeon.

Junmyeon nods slightly before lurching forward some. It looks, for all intents and purposes, like he’s about to vomit. The others at the table lean away, though Kyungsoo just looks concerned and starts to pat his back as Junmyeon starts another dry heave. He gestures toward the bathroom, and Kyungsoo gets up to help him along with a rather quick shuffle.

“Try and aim there,” Kyungsoo says, lifting the toilet seat and pushing Junmyeon into the stall.

Junmyeon laughs. “I’m fine,” he says. “But holy shit that guy is an asshole.”

Kyungsoo glares for a moment before punching Junmyeon in the arm. “I thought you were actually sick,” he says with a quiet laugh. “Thank you. Can we crawl out a window?”

“We can wait for a few minutes and you can drive me home because I’m too sick to stay,” Junmyeon says. He sighs and looks himself over in the mirror before leaning in to splash some water on his face.

“So…I guess it’s going well with the annoying one and your boytoy?” Kyungsoo asks after a brief stretch of silence. “I mean if you’re doing check-in texting.”

“Please don’t call him that,” Junmyeon groans. “It’s barely a thing; I can’t say if it’s going well or not already.”

“I want to meet him,” Kyungsoo says with a nod. “He could be a grifter. Or a serial killer.”

“And you have magic grifter slash serial killer detecting powers?”

“We can smell our own.” They exchange goofy wide-eyed stares before Kyungsoo relaxes his face into a laugh. “Really though, he’s not living with you two, is he? It’s pretty soon. You could barely move in with Baekhyun and you knew him for centuries beforehand.”

“He’s not living with us,” Junmyeon says with a shake of his head. “He’s staying with a friend of his. He’s just…over a lot currently. He just broke up with his roommate.”

One of Kyungsoo’s thick brows raises. “So does that mean he wasn’t broken up when you did whatever it is that you did that I definitely still don’t need the details of?”

“I guess not,” Junmyeon says. “I dunno. It’s weird, right? I’m not exactly other man material.”

“Well Junhee’s clearly other woman material.” Kyungsoo laughs despite the light smack to the head that follows that remark. “Honestly, Junma. This entire situation is so anti-you it’s like you’re a pod person.”

“I know.” Junmyeon sighs and leans against the sink. “Maybe it’s a delayed quarter life crisis. Maybe I’m going crazy.”

“Is there any way at all I can possibly blame this on Baekhyun?”

“No, but you’ll find a way, I’m sure.”


	10. Lesson 10: Always Ask Whether Your Loved One Is A Serial Killer Or Not

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this took forever to write. I am so sorry. Giant cloud of writer's block settled in on this one and thus I wrote all the other things instead. But look! Words! I hope they are acceptable.

It’s awkward to have Kyungsoo in their apartment clearly—and unabashedly—studying Jongdae. As if the glaring might intimidate Jongdae into confessing his nefarious grifter serial killer plot. All it really accomplishes is making Junmyeon realize Jongdae has an impressive ability to stare at Kyungsoo just as long as Kyungsoo tends to stare at other people.

Baekhyun slides tea onto the coffee table between them and backs away as if there were some kind of showdown going on. And maybe, in the middle of the staring and the silence, there is. Junmyeon gives Baekhyun a sympathetic smile, folding his arms over his chest, as they stand off to the side of the living room.

“How much longer do we let them do this?” Baekhyun whispers. Jongdae reaches for a mug of tea and manages not to break eye contact.

“I dunno, maybe we should just go to bed?” Junmyeon shrugs. “Throw a sheet over them and hope they go to sleep like birds?”

“That might work on the little one but Jongdae—”

“He’s barely taller than me,” Kyungsoo says. The contest ends as he shifts his gaze to glare at Baekhyun. “ _You’re_  barely taller than me. And I can hear you. Ass.”

“Oh good, that’s done!” Jongdae grins and stands to stretch. “That was fun. What should we have for dinner?”

“Where do you live?” Kyungsoo asks as he folds his arms over his chest.

Jongdae’s smile shrinks, but only for a second. “I live with a friend,” he says. “About twenty minutes away. Should I give you the address?”

“What do you do for a living?”

“Soo, cut it out,” Baekhyun says with a short laugh, shaking his head. “Drink your tea and shut up.”

“No, it’s okay.” Jongdae shrugs. “I’m not working right now. I was a student. Then I graduated. I’ll probably get a job at a grocery or something once my savings dips too low.”

“A grocery.” Kyungsoo’s voice is dark when he repeats, and one of his brows tics up. “Why not get a proper job with whatever degree you got?”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Junmyeon says, and Kyungsoo doesn’t dispute. Most of the time, Junmyeon’s tone is pleasant, warm, playful. Kyungsoo knows not to push much further when Junmyeon switches to his louder, firmer voice.

To Junmyeon’s surprise, Jongdae doesn’t look the least bit shaken or offended by the questioning, his mouth still curled in a tiny smile in between sips of tea. He glances to Junmyeon briefly, and the older man tries to give him a sympathetic look but he’s sure he just looks weird. 

“I should probably go,” Kyungsoo says, standing. “It was nice to meet you, Jongdae.”

“You’re lying, but I’ll allow it,” Jongdae nods. He stands as well and extends a hand. “Maybe next time will be better.”

“Mm.” Kyungsoo shakes the hand offered to him, just barely, before seeing himself out of the apartment.

Baekhyun steps closer to Jongdae and rubs his back briefly, though it seems more like he needs the comforting rather than Jongdae. Junmyeon sighs, runs a hand through his hair, and takes Kyungsoo’s untouched tea as his own.

“He worries,” Baekhyun says. “Not about me, of course. About Junma.”

“It’s fine, seriously,” Jongdae says with a shrug. “I’m more than used to getting grilled like that. And they’re valid questions, anyway. Questions you probably should ask me. I really could be a serial killer, for all you know.”

“You know, even if we ask, you’d probably just lie,” Baekhyun says.

“You’re absolutely right.”

Jongdae and Baekhyun exchange smarmy grins, and Jongdae leans closer.

“So. You graduated,” Baekhyun says. His fingertips slide along Jongdae’s jeans, and Junmyeon sits down across from them to watch them. “What did you study?”

“Drama,” Jongdae says. “That’s me. Full of drama.”

“You want to act, then?” Baekhyun’s nose wrinkles some, a quiet laugh slipping out. “I could see that. Stage or screen?”

“Stage.” Jongdae spreads his legs just so as Baekhyun’s hand slides higher. “Is your tiny friend always so suspicious?”

“All the time,” Baekhyun nods. “Suspicious and angry and just generally terrible.”

“That’s not true,” Junmyeon laughs quietly. “He’s nice…He’s just worried.”

“Again, not about me.”

Junmyeon smiles at Baekhyun momentarily before looking down to his lap instead. His mind wanders to a place he has zero desire to be and had hoped he’d lost the map to get there; it hadn’t occurred to him he’d memorized the route. Watching Baekhyun pawing at Jongdae wasn’t even enough to distract him from his own thoughts.

He knows it’s a matter of Kyungsoo being worried about him, and he definitely appreciates it. But the worrying just makes him remember the reason for the worrying, and a tension in his back creeps in that won’t be easily worked out by a masseuse.

He sighs, gets up, heads toward the kitchen to try and find a menu for takeout as the sounds of moaning start to tickle at his eardrums.

——

They don’t see Jongdae again until Saturday. Baekhyun hurries a hello and goodbye all rolled into one as he passes Jongdae in the hall, hurrying to catch the train for his shift at The End. Jongdae stands in the hallway with bewilderment etched onto his face, turning his dark eyes to Junmyeon in the doorway.

Several questions play at Junmyeon’s tongue, looking over the crisply-pressed black slacks and shiny shoes that may well cost more than Junmyeon makes in a month. He’s fairly certain he’s never seen Jongdae in a tie, and yet a thin strip of black stands out against the deep burgundy of his button-up. Even his hair, which Junmyeon grew accustomed to seeing a floppy, shaggy mess, has been neatened up with a trim and a generous amount of hair gel.

He looks like the idols Junmyeon see coming in and out of the Starlight Entertainment building.

Jongdae blinks a few times, his eyes cutely squeezing shut harder than they actually have to. “Not taking the stage tonight?” he asks with a playful lilt.

Junmyeon’s cheeks burn at the question and he instinctively glances back toward his room, toward his drag accessories. His head jerks once, unable to think well enough to answer without a thousand and one questions tumbling out.

“Shame,” Jongdae sighs. “I was hoping I’d escort you to the bar.” His hands fumble in his pockets for a moment and Junmyeon considers apologizing before a thought brightens Jongdae’s face. “We could go out anyway. Me and you. A proper date, huh? With or without the dress.”

Junmyeon had zero plans to leave their apartment that day—he stands there in his blue and white gingham old man pants, as Baekhyun calls them, and his high school PE t-shirt so threadbare that the next washing may well be the last. He hasn’t even bothered trying to make his hair acceptable considering the day was spent alternately napping and steadily growing more comfortable with making out with Baekhyun.

“Um…” Junmyeon coughs out a nervous laugh, rubbing the nape of his neck. “I don’t…”

“Shower,” Jongdae says. He ducks beneath Junmyeon’s arm stretched across the door frame, stepping into the apartment. “And then we’ll go out. Anywhere you want. My treat!”

“Do  you even have money?” Junmyeon blurts and immediately winces at the accusations in his tone. But Jongdae doesn’t seem to mind, his smile not falling even a hair.

“I have savings,” he nods. “And I got…Well, okay, I’ll be totally honest, my roommate—former roommate—gave me more money. But I didn’t do anything with him!” he adds hurriedly, hands flying up to wave away suspicions that Junmyeon hadn’t even had time to formulate. “Yeol and I just went to get my stuff, and he was there, and he gave me a check. Like some kind of severance package. Really clinical-like. Nothing happened.”

“Okay,” Junmyeon nods. “I believe you.”

“Really?” Jongdae’s thick brow lifts. “Because I wouldn’t believe me. That sounds super ridiculous. But it’s definitely the truth.  You can ask Yeol.”

“I don’t need to,” Junmyeon says.

That look comes back, the confusion and hint of awe settling onto Jongdae’s face. Junmyeon attempts a reassuring smile but he doesn’t know if that makes things better or worse.

“Why do you do that?” Junmyeon asks. It’s better, he thinks, to stop with the internal interrogations and maybe follow Kyungsoo’s lead. But, obviously, less rudely. “The…Sometimes when I say things, you look like you might cry. When I asked you for permission to take your picture…and just now, when I said I believe you. It’s like you don’t expect kindness.”

“I don’t,” Jongdae shrugs. He doesn’t look at Junmyeon. “Kindness is a courtesy for people who deserve it, not people like me. You’re too nice, really. Anyway, you should go shower and change so we can get outta here.”

Junmyeon spends the entire shower trying to think of something to say, something to do, to refute Jongdae’s statement but realizes pretty quickly that he has no idea how. He’s good at fixing people, probably the best that he knows, but he’s not even sure Jongdae realizes he’s a bit broken. Sighing, Junmyeon flits around his room getting ready, stopping to stare at his closet for some time. At the tiny area designated for the handful of dresses he’s bought. At a nice, traditional suit hanging nearby.

When he walks back into the living room, Jongdae stands, jaw agape. Junmyeon glances down at himself with the assumption that something is wrong. He smooths his hands along the black fabric of his pencil dress, then tugs it down a bit.

“It’s bad?” he asks with a frown.

“What? No…no, no no you look…” Jongdae stares more, and the closer he gets, the clearer it is that a heavy layer of desire is settled over him. “Wow.”

The attention, the look in Jongdae’s eyes, makes Junmyeon’s cheeks flush. He tries not to smile so cheesily, looking down to his pumps to hide his face and letting strands from the wig fall forward. Jongdae’s shiny shoes step into Junmyeon’s field of vision.

“Hey,” Jongdae calls softly. He touches his index finger to Junmyeon’s chin gingerly. “Look at me.” He waits a few beats, and Junmyeon feels his insides turning to jelly as he meets Jongdae’s almost predatory gaze. “You’re beautiful. And if it weren’t a waste of us both looking so nice, I’d suggest staying in. But other people should see this. And then we can come back here and I can be happy about seeing this more because you’re mine, pretty lady.”

Junmyeon gives a slight nod, trying to breathe more easily and having trouble on that front. Jongdae softens his expression into his normal jovial one. He leans in and kisses Junmyeon on the forehead, then grins.

“Shall we, then?”


	11. Lesson 11: Just Don't Ever Leave The House, Honestly

The restaurant feels too fancy. The walls definitely are too close together. And Junmyeon is almost positive the hostess knew he was a guy in a dress.

He sits across from Jongdae in a booth with black leather seats and tries not to look as nervous as he feels. Going from point A to point B to perform while dressed like this is one thing; to be out in the world with eyes that may or may not appreciate the view is an entirely different beast. It fills him with dread and worry and, weirdly enough, a thrill that he can’t quite peg.

They’ve gone through two courses already, which briefly makes Junmyeon think of long, boring client dinners for work, but he doesn’t say much about it. Jongdae seems pleased, and so it’s good enough for Junmyeon.

“What do you think it’s like to eat in places like this every night?” Jongdae asks. “Can you even imagine? Teeny portions and stuffy music and snooty people everywhere. Makes me want to jump on the table and start shouting swears.”

“Please don’t,” Junmyeon says.

“Fine, Daddy, I won’t,” Jongdae says with a roll of his eyes. That twisty, thrill-y feeling jolts Junmyeon again. “Are you enjoying your food? You’re barely eating.”

“No, it’s good,” Junmyeon says. “Just…tired, I suppose.” He’s the least tired he’s ever been. “Maybe I just want to save room for the main course.”

“Maybe,” Jongdae nods. “I can’t believe you’re wearing this out. I didn’t think you would. Look at you, being bold.” His mouth curls upwards again and Junmyeon tries to ward off the blushing. “I like it. And, again, you look gorgeous.”

“Are you trying to get me into bed?” Junmyeon asks. “Because the extra flattery isn’t necessary for that.”

“I know,” Jongdae says. “I’m saying it because it’s true. No ulterior motives. Just genuinely in awe of your face right now.”

For a first date, and his first date in a dress, Junmyeon thinks things are moving along well enough. Once he relaxes a little more, he enjoys himself through the next course, chatting with Jongdae about whatever pops into their minds. It’s nice, and it feels normal and he’s grateful for Jongdae’s calmness helping to bring down his anxieties. By the time the entrees arrive, he’s all but forgotten he isn’t in his normal clothes.

“This was so expensive and there’s hardly five bites to this,” Jongdae says as he jabs at his steak. “Maybe we should’ve gone to a fast food place. Tons of food, very cheap.”

“This is fine,” Junmyeon smiles some. “I’m not that hungry anyway.”

Jongdae shrugs, cuts his steak quietly, and starts to eat. Junmyeon thinks, in the dim light of the restaurant, that this could very easily be some really special occasion. Anniversary dinner. Proposal. Celebrating a promotion. He watches Jongdae start in on a story about Chanyeol and a garden snake but half the words don’t even make it to his ear. It’s probably the wine, definitely the wine, but all he can think about is how fun it’d be to swipe all the dishes off of the table and ride Jongdae right there on the tabletop. The image plays in his head on a loop and he shifts in his seat, the tape holding his dick in place becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

He sighs quietly and crosses his legs, which just puts his foot closer to Jongdae’s legs. He grazes Jongdae accidentally and apologizes quietly, then decides to do it again, a purposeful drag of his calf against Jongdae’s. He watches a couple of servers pass by, pausing his movements, then slips his foot out of his shoe once they’re left alone again. Bold is good, he reminds himself, biting his lower lip as he lifts his foot to rest against Jongdae’s groin. Jongdae pauses mid-chew, blinking at Junmyeon a few times before laughing lowly and going back to talking as normally as he can.

“What time does Baekhyun’s shift end?” Jongdae asks.

“Six,” Junmyeon says. He presses his toes down some and watches Jongdae fidget. “It’s always ten to six unless he’s switched with someone.”

“Noted,” Jongdae nods, and Junmyeon delights in the strain in the other’s voice. “Should we go surprise him at work after this?”

Junmyeon nods. “I usually go up there around one or two,” he says, “if I don’t go in at the start of his shift.”

“I’m honestly confused as to how you two weren’t fucking before I got here.”

Jongdae’s laugh is breathy, disjointed, as he scoots forward on his seat for more contact with Junmyeon’s foot. He stops moving his foot momentarily, a bit startled, but swallows another mouthful of wine before rubbing his toes along Jongdae’s hardening length. He’s never had his foot against someone’s cock as it goes hard, and for a moment he thinks maybe he should pull back. Jongdae’s intense stare, the minute rolling of his hips, changes Junmyeon’s mind. He tries to feel for the head and, once he’s sure he’s in the right place, he presses down harder, clenching his toes.

“Stubborn, I guess,” Junmyeon shrugs.

“Mm.” Jongdae winces some, leaning forward for a moment before taking a deep breath. “Do you really want to start this?”

“Think I already did,” Junmyeon smirks.

Jongdae laughs again. His hand slides from resting against the table to resting against the top of Junmyeon’s foot, and Junmyeon tries not to hyperventilate. Jongdae’s touch is firm, slowly pushing Junmyeon’s foot against him in a more stable rhythm.  Junmyeon tightens his grip on his wine glass and shifts in place, trying to think of something, anything, to stop from getting hard while tucked.

With their glasses low, their server approaches, and before Junmyeon can pull his foot away fully, Jongdae tightens his thighs, holding him in place as he asks about their dessert course, about different drinks available, about ingredients in the main course. Junmyeon wants to back away, at first, but the more Jongdae badgers this server while clenching around Junmyeon’s foot, the more Junmyeon finds himself enjoying it. He smiles at the server and thanks her for refilling his wine glass, then looks to Jongdae with a laugh once they’re alone.

“You’re crazy,” he says, shaking his head.

“I’m hard,” Jongdae says. “And I really want to fuck you. Right here, right now. Just hike your dress right up and slam into you so hard your thighs are bruised for weeks.”

“Stop,” Junmyeon says with a shaky laugh. He tucks a piece of hair back behind his bright red ear as Jongdae lets a low moan slip, chin sinking down toward his chest.

Junmyeon tenses, his rationale creeping back in and immediately he looks around to see if anyone heard. A couple at a table nearby look over to their booth, and he smiles politely at them. This is a bad idea. Very bad, and wrong, and people are trying to  _eat_ and here he is—

“Holy fuck,” Jongdae pants, his grip on Junmyeon’s ankle tightening. Junmyeon starts to ask if he’s okay, but he feels the heat and the wetness starting to seep through Jongdae’s pants. “Oh Christ…Shit.”

He laughs some and lifts his head and smiles far more sweetly than someone who just got a foot job under a table really ought to. He pats Junmyeon’s leg, then pushes it away before sliding out of the booth to head toward the bathroom. Junmyeon smiles to himself and shifts to slide his foot back in his heel. His eyes shift to his phone, considering texting Baekhyun about his one moment of semi-exhibitionism, but Jongdae starts toward the booth again before he can.

“Alright, I feel bet—” Jongdae stops, both his sentence and his walking, and stands staring dumbly beside their booth. Junmyeon waits a few beats to see if he says something more; when he doesn’t, he turns slightly to see if he can spot whatever it is Jongdae stares at. The top of the booth is too tall, though, and leaning out to see feels rather rude.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

Jongdae gives his head a slight shake, lifting one hand in a half-hearted wave. He sinks down into the booth again and Junmyeon starts to worry—Jongdae’s entire demeanor is tense now. Unpleasant. He opens his mouth to ask about Jongdae’s wellbeing again but another voice calls out.

“Well look at this, you’ve already found yourself someone new.”

No. No  _no_ , Junmyeon starts to tense as well; he’s ninety percent sure he recognizes the voice without turning, and he has zero desire to confirm. The smarmy, lilting tone of his boss is almost unmistakable. Jongdae tightens his jaw, glares just to Junmyeon’s left, and Junmyeon cuts his eyes over to try and see without moving his head. All he manages to get a glimpse of is a pot belly that he’s definitely stared at from the corner of his eye at work.  _Shit fuck goddammit._

“So I did,” Jongdae says, which brings up a mass of confusion in Junmyeon. He studies Jongdae, watches every flicker of anger in his eyes, every clench of his fist, every furrow of his brow. Something is wrong. Something is really very wrong and Junmyeon can feel where it’s headed and it makes him lightheaded and nauseous and…

“Nice to meet you, ma’am. I’m an old friend of Jongdae’s.” His boss steps closer, extending a hand that Junmyeon does not want to shake, as Jongdae scoffs. Junmyeon tilts his head forward some to try and hide behind hair, giving a quick shake. “Shy, huh? Not like you to go for that type.”

“Honestly it’s none of your business,” Jongdae says. “So if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Well it’s sort of my business,” Junmyeon’s boss says, “if you’re spending my money to wine and dine her. Looks like a really nice bottle, by the way.”

Junmyeon starts to motion to Jongdae, desperate to get out of this situation and this restaurant and this day but it’s useless. He only makes it halfway out of the booth before the churning in his stomach turns into an upheaval on the floor, narrowly missing his bosses shoes. He can hear people crying out, somewhere there’s Jongdae speaking as well, and his boss’s gruff grumbling, but his ears can’t really focus on any actual words. Jongdae appears in front of him as he’s still leaned over the side of the booth, kneeling down and wiping his mouth with a napkin. Tears sting at Junmyeon’s eyes and he’s certain he’s wrecked his makeup with this ridiculous crying and when he looks up at his boss, he’s certain of something else.

This man recognizes him. And he is not pleased.


	12. Lesson 12: Don't Drink To Excess

Junmyeon hates a fuss. He hates people interrupting their busy lives to take care of him. He hates needing to be taken care of in the first place. None of that ever matters to Baekhyun, and matters even less now that they’re more intimately acquainted, and Junmyeon has a quiet gratitude about it. But he still hates it.

The dull throb in the back of Junmyeon’s head and the piercing ache in his eyes make him want to start crying again, even knowing that’ll just make both things worse. Instead, he clutches the fabric of Baekhyun’s plaid pajama pants tighter. A chorus of  _stupid_ hums in his head and there’s not enough alcohol in their apartment to drown it out. Maybe not even enough in the city.

Worse, he knows Baekhyun wants to talk. Can feel all of the questions rattling around behind Baekhyun’s eyes and in his throat and he has no desire whatsoever to entertain a single one of them. A couple slip out (”What happened? Where’s the birthday boy?”) but they’re ignored and Baekhyun’s opted for silence instead, and Junmyeon supposes he’ll have to apologize at some point for being an asshole.

He spends the whole night like that, curled up against Baekhyun, head in his lap, teetering in between sobbing and stoic until eventually he passes out. When he peels his eyes open, the whole room reflects more light than he remembers it ever doing and everything sounds six decibels too loud and his mouth tastes of dryness and discomfort and traces of sick. He groans, slides out of Baekhyun’s vice grip, heads to the bathroom to brush his teeth a few times.

His phone lists eight texts and one phone call from Jongdae and he wonders if he can delete them before actually having to look at them. He sighs, sits down on the living room sofa and curls up to try and be an adult and confront things head-on.

_I hope you made it home okay. Please text me so I know the cab driver didn’t murder you._

_OK you haven’t texted but I’m guessing you’re alive and angry considering the plethora of profanity thrown my way, so…I’m sorry._

_Actually, no. I’m not sorry. I never lied to you. There’s nothing for me to be sorry for. I do feel bad you got sick._

_Can I just ask why, though? I mean I tried asking but you refused to even look at me so…texting it is._

_I really like you, really like both of you, and I can understand being weirded out about me living with your boss, but does that really change anything?_

_It’s been three hours and you’re probably asleep or passed out by now, but I wanted to say goodnight, and I hope we get to talk tomorrow._

_Junmyeon, now I’m actually worried. Did you get home?_

_I’m going to call._

Junmyeon checks the time of the last text, and the current time, and sighs. Twelve minutes ago. He could, and probably should, call Jongdae back. Text an apology for freaking out (and maybe breaking up with him?). Invite him over as a peace offering. He opts not to do any of those.

The water of his shower makes him shiver but adding heat made him feel queasy, so chilled will have to do. He rubs his hands over his face, spreading his face wash around and trying to not feel unclean for having gone to bed without washing his face. In the corner of the shower, he spots a bright green shower puff and stares at it for a while. The one in his hand is blue. Baekhyun’s is black. He doesn’t remember Jongdae being around long enough to put that there.

Stupid, handsome Jongdae with his weird relationships and that smile and  _fuck_ Junmyeon just wants to see him again, but how do people  apologize for drunken blow-ups like that? How can he ever look at Jongdae, touch every part of him, without thinking about his gross, sexist asshole boss feeling the same parts?

It isn’t fair. It isn’t fair that Jongdae ever slept with someone like that, that someone like that got to appreciate every muscle of Jongdae before Junmyeon had the chance. And it isn’t fair that it puts a little asterisk on Jongdae. Maybe that makes Junmyeon an asshole, but he really doesn’t know how to move past that, much as he’d really love to.

And how can he go back to work, really? He has another day to figure out how to handle that, if he wants to tell Kyungsoo about what’s happened, and neither option really sits well with him. He wraps a towel around his waist before quietly slinking back into Baekhyun’s room.

The creeping is unnecessary, though—Baekhyun has a world-class glare and aims it straight at Junmyeon the second he walks into the room. His hand clutches his phone, and Junmyeon attempts to remain casual.

“You’re awa—”

“You  _dumped_ him? Seriously?” Baekhyun’s disgust culminates in a scoff, shaking his head. “Unbelievable, Junmyeon.”

“Okay…Let me explain—”

“No. There’s nothing to explain. You think I don’t know you? So he slept with your boss. So what? You’re really going to tell him to fuck off because of that?” A pause, and Junmyeon considers answering, but he’s sure that it’s a hypothetical. “Don’t be an idiot, Kim Junmyeon. This boy likes you. You like him. Do exes really matter?”

“When the ex is my boss, a little…”

“Ugh! You’re so stupid!” A pillow comes hurdling Junmyeon’s way, and he slaps it to the ground before it can hit him. “Put pants on. We’re going to talk to him.”

“I don’t want to do that, though,” Junmyeon says.

Baekhyun stares. “You’re really just not going to talk to him? Over him fucking your boss?”

“It’s not just—It’s not that, Baekhyun.” Junmyeon sighs, cards his fingers through wet hair. “My boss saw me. In a dress. With makeup. Out with his ex. That’s a fucking big deal. That could cost me my promotion. You don’t understand.”

“So a promotion is more important than Jongdae?”

“ _Yes_!”

It’s impossible, Junmyeon realizes, to suck words back in once they’re out there. A look comes across Baekhyun’s face that Junmyeon hasn’t seen before and it’s hard to pinpoint, but he thinks maybe it’s disappointment. Baekhyun, who talks so much words sometimes come out even while he’s sleeping, says nothing as he dresses to leave.

——

At the very least, his new office affords him the privacy of not being bothered by anyone. He doesn’t have to see his boss occasionally slinking around, peering over shoulders and throwing out half-assed insults. He doesn’t have to avoid Kyungsoo’s creepy knowing gaze. It’s easy to sit straight through his lunch break without so much as a knock on the door, and it’s both comforting and terrifying—at some point the shoe has to drop.

The first knock of the day, almost an hour before it’s time to go home, has him yelping and jerking in place, knocking over his water bottle. He straightens it just as Kyungsoo pokes his head in, then lets out a relieved sigh.

“You okay?” Kyungsoo asks as he sees himself in. “You haven’t come out all day.”

“Uh…you know what, that’s probably not a conversation for work,” Junmyeon says with a nervous laugh.

Kyungsoo blinks a few times, then shrugs and lets it go. “Do you want to get dinner?” he asks. “Jongin’s got extra practice tonight so he won’t be home and that apartment is kind of depressing alone.”

“I should probably go home,” Junmyeon says. “I owe Baek dinner. I was kind of a jerk the other day and…” And Baekhyun hadn’t come home. Hadn’t answered texts. Still hasn’t. “You know what. Fuck it. Let’s go get drunk.”

It takes less than half an hour for Junmyeon to accomplish his goal and he can tell Kyungsoo is worried, but he genuinely doesn’t care. What he cares about is the warmth flooding his veins thanks to the generous whiskey shots and forgetting all about what’s his face and the other one. But it doesn’t work, even with copious amounts of hard liquor, and it’s another half an hour until Junmyeon is sobbing his way through explaining their disastrous first date, running into their boss, arguing with Baekhyun. All of it hurts, all of it is too fresh to be digging into the wound so deeply, but it almost kind of helps to spew it all out without being interrupted.

He lays his head against the bar, closes his eyes to try and relieve some of the pressure building behind them. Something about being unable to tell how Kyungsoo feels with everything he’s said makes Junmyeon kind of angry. Like Kyungsoo should have more of a reaction than he does. It’s the liquor, it has to be, but now he’s not just sad, he’s kind of pissed.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“What do you want me to say?” Kyungsoo says.

“ _Something_. Anything! Fuck, Soo, you’re a really shitty friend.”

Kyungsoo coughs out a laugh. “Okay, well, I think you’re being really stupid,” he says. “You don’t just dump people because you’re embarrassed. That’s ridiculous. But if you can’t handle him having an ex that you know, maybe it’s for the best.”

“It’s not just an ex!” Junmyeon insists. “It’s our  _boss_ , Kyungsoo. Our gross asshole shit-fucker boss. Jongdae rode that. Like. Repeatedly. Does that not bother you?”

“No,” Kyungsoo says, and his calmness is so fucking  _smug_. “But I don’t have a dog in this fight and I couldn’t really care less. It’s kind of creepy but…it wouldn’t be a deal-breaker for me if I really liked someone. And you seem to really like him. Maybe if you spend some time sober you’ll be less of a fuckwad and you’ll realize you’re being an idiot.”

“ _You’re_  an idiot,” Junmyeon hisses. “God, why is everyone stupid.”

“I think that’s enough whiskey for tonight.”

——

The first thing Junmyeon sees when his eyes open is Jongin, smiling down at him with a face full of empathy and a tiny squint to his eyes. Junmyeon groans and drags his hands down his face.

“Good morning,” Jongin says. “You were grumbling in your sleep. It was funny.”

“Why am I here,” Junmyeon groans.

“I dunno.” Jongin shrugs before standing from the couch, Junmyeon’s apparent resting place for the evening. “I woke up and you were here. I texted Kyungsoo but I think he’s really busy.”

“Fuck… _Fuck_! Work. Fuck.”

Junmyeon scrambles to his feet, checking around the living room for the clothes he’d somehow discarded before hastily throwing them on.

“Um. He left this on your head.” Jongin stretches out a hand with a post-it note stuck to his finger, and Junmyeon takes it from him.

_Called in for you. Sleep it off, asshole._

“Oh.”

“Do you want something to eat?” Jongin asks. “I can order some food.”

“Um. No…No, thank you, though,” Junmyeon says. He tucks the note into his pocket, feels his phone and the vibration to alert him to texts waiting. “Sorry. I’ll get out of your hair. Uh…good luck with the…dance stuff.”

He feels his phone a few times the whole train ride back home, and as he walks from the station to the apartment. It’s empty inside, and it makes his heart sink a little. Doesn’t even look like Baekhyun’s been back at all. Sighing, he tosses his keys down and flops face-first onto the sofa. Avoiding texts is becoming second-nature, but the urge to contact Baekhyun outweighs feeling anxious about reading his messages.

Two from his mother, a text from Kyungsoo with some very colorful language, and one succinct message from Baekhyun, six hours ago.

_You owe me._


	13. Lesson 13: Always Have Music Prepared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the curious: [This](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1TsVjvEkc4s) is Junmyeon's prepared music for later. Ahem.

The longest period of time in which Junmyeon and Baekhyun didn’t speak had been three days. It was in college, and Junmyeon went to Ireland to study abroad. He’d managed to lose his phone in the airport, and it took some time to get a new one. He couldn’t remember Baekhyun’s phone number offhand, a side effect of technological dependence, so by the time he got the new phone and emailed Baekhyun about what happened, three days had passed. It felt like six lifetimes. He should’ve known then that maybe they were more than they thought.

Barring the terse three-word text, he hadn’t heard from Baekhyun in four days now. Emails went unanswered, texts read but no response. He’d gone as far as actually calling, but he knew before the ringing even started that Baekhyun wouldn’t answer. He never answers phone calls.

All Junmyeon can think to do is show up to The End and hope Baekhyun doesn’t have security escort him out. He tries to make himself look especially appealing, slicking back his blond locks and slipping into deep brown slacks and a dark teal button-up and momentarily thinking back to when Baekhyun had picked the pieces out while telling Junmyeon to be more adventurous with his clothing choices.

Bodies bump against one another with little room to breathe in The End, and Junmyeon has to practically fight his way to get to a stool. Of course they’re all taken once he gets there, but he doesn’t mind; all he cares about is the fact that Baekhyun is there, smiling and bright, chatting with customers as he pours their shots. An ease washes over Junmyeon just from looking at Baekhyun from afar and he smiles without much thought behind it.

Baekhyun works quickly, a large part of why he’d been shifted to weekends, and once everyone’s satisfied, he heads to the end of the bar. He leans over, leans in close, and—

Oh.

Oh…Jongdae also being there hadn’t even factored into Junmyeon’s mind, but unless Baekhyun has some secret life going on, he’s certain that it’s Jongdae that Baekhyun is currently kissing. He clenches his fists briefly before trying to force himself to relax. It’s just Jongdae. It’s fine. Everything is fine, and he can still walk over and apologize just like planned.

Only, it isn’t just how he planned, not with Jongdae there, and he hadn’t prepared any kind of apology for Jongdae yet and that would take far longer considering how deeply he’d fucked up. Leaving is an option, but he can’t really stand the thought of going back to that apartment alone.

He has three false starts before his legs move forward. The twenty seconds it takes to reach the bar aren’t enough to whip up a worthwhile apology to Jongdae but he hopes a simple one suffices well enough. He leans against the bar counter in the space to Jongdae’s right, shoulders scrunched some and hands clasped before looking toward Jongdae. He hadn’t anticipated seeing him, but he anticipated even less how relieved he’d be to see his face.

Jongdae watches him, as he’d hoped, want wrapped in caution in his eyes. His hand clutches a highball glass loosely, near the rim, and he swirls it around absently before smirking.

“Well don’t you look fancy.”

“It’s…Thank you,” Junmyeon says. Jongdae gives a short nod before bringing his glass up to his lips and Junmyeon is made aware of how parched he feels. “I’m sorry.”

“What?” Jongdae asks. “Couldn’t hear that.”

“I said I’m sorry,” Junmyeon says slightly louder.

“One more time?”

“I’m sorry! I—” Jongdae’s grin makes it clear that he’d heard him just fine the first time, and Junmyeon sighs. “I don’t handle stress very well. And…I was an asshole, and I’m sorry, and I’d like to at least be friends.”

“Fuck that,” Jongdae scoffs. “You think I can be just friends with you? No. We’re fucking. You’re making this up to me.”

“Okay,” Junmyeon nods. He’s grateful for the dim lighting in the bar hiding the blush spreading over his face.

Jongdae’s free hand wraps around Junmyeon’s thigh, slipping higher until reaching just below his groin. He doesn’t move it, simply holds on to Junmyeon. Junmyeon smiles a little, then watches as Baekhyun crosses closer to them again, a confused look on his face.

“You stalking me now?” Baekhyun asks with poorly-executed indifference as he wipes down the bar counter in front of Junmyeon.

“Yes,” Junmyeon nods. “I miss you. I love you. Come home please.”

Baekhyun’s mouth is a line on his face and his brow is hiked high, but Junmyeon sees something close to forgiveness starting to form in his eyes. He smiles, then holds his hands up to make a little heart, and Baekhyun rolls his eyes before tossing the bar rag at him.

——

It’s late when they leave the bar after Baekhyun’s shift, but none of them are tired at all. Junmyeon’s insides jump around the closer they get to home. It feels silly, being so upset about being alone for four whole days, but having Baekhyun back—having Jongdae with them—feels like Christmas and twenty birthdays all rolled into one. He can’t contain the smile that creeps onto his face as Jongdae stands right behind him as he tries unlocking the apartment, close enough to feel him there but still not quite touching. He can’t turn the key fast enough.

The weight of Jongdae against him, draping onto him and kissing him with intensity, makes them both stumble forward, the door slamming back into the wall from the force.  Junmyeon feels his ears burn and his heart race at double-speed, letting Jongdae undress him. He looks to Baekhyun, leaned against the now-closed front door and watching them with apprehension, and smiles before holding out his hand. It takes a few seconds for Baekhyun to reach back.

Somehow, clumsily and hazily, the three of them make it to Baekhyun’s room. It’s become the default room for the three of them since Baekhyun insisted on having the larger bedroom when they moved in and Junmyeon had no problem complying.

“Wait,” Jongdae mutters. He doesn’t actually stop kissing, nibbling along Junmyeon’s shoulder. “Wait.”

“Why?” Junmyeon asks. He hates how desperate and whiny he sounds but knows both are fairly accurate to how he feels. He leans in again, though Jongdae moves away.

“You should really work a little harder for my forgiveness,” Jongdae smiles. “And his.”

“I’m fine,” Baekhyun says, shrugging and leaning against the headboard. “Forgiven. Whatever. I just want to get off at this point.”

“Well I’m owed more,” Jongdae says. He shoves away from Junmyeon, sliding back to sit beside Baekhyun against the headboard. He folds his hands in his lap.

“Do I want to know what you’re about to ask of me?” Nerves fluttered in Junmyeon’s stomach, gaze shifting from Jongdae to Baekhyun.

Jongdae’s grin stretched wider and he let out a quick laugh. “I want to see you dance again,” he says. “Like on my birthday.”

Breathing becomes an optional component to Junmyeon. Heat floods his cheeks, and he brings his hands up in the hopes of possibly hiding the flush. He laughs quietly as well, though it’s more from embarrassment than amusement. On stage, at least, he’d been one of several performing—never solo. To do some kind of routine here, now, alone? More than a little terrifying. Still, Jongdae is definitely owed, and Junmyeon is hard-pressed to ignore the way his dick responds to the thought of a private dance for Jongdae and Baekhyun.

His preparation takes less than fifteen minutes, and when he walks back into the room, he stops to watch Jongdae settling himself in Baekhyun’s lap. It’s cute considering Jongdae is somewhat larger, but he somehow looks small and…something else that Junmyeon can’t place. He smiles, looking away again as if he’d caught strangers in an intimate moment. There’s a sharp breath from the bed and without looking he’s sure it’s Jongdae.

“Wow,” Jongdae says with a hint of a laugh in his tone.

Junmyeon feels the blushing creep again but he tries to focus on trying to work Baekhyun’s docking speaker and finding the song he’d thought of to use. His free hand grips the sheer organza fabric of his knee-grazing sky blue dress and he’s sure Baekhyun notices that tiny nervous tell, but for once there isn’t any teasing about it. He sighs some once he finds his place on his phone, then moves to take Baekhyun’s desk chair out and sits it at the foot of the bed. His eyes lock on Jongdae and he points to get them both into the chair.

Another shy smile slips onto his face as Jongdae stands in front of him and he’s too filled with something like embarrassment to look up at him. “Longer wig. Darker.” Jongdae pauses. “You look beautiful.”

“Don’t tell him that so much,” Baekhyun says. He yanks Jongdae back into his lap on the chair. “He’ll get a complex.”

“Fuck you,” Junmyeon laughs quietly.

He starts to move away from them and jumps slightly at the feel of a hand against his arm. Baekhyun drags his hand down Junmyeon’s bare arm, down to his hand, briefly locking their pinkies together before letting go with a soft smile. And like that, Junmyeon feels a million times calmer than he had just seconds ago. He smiles back, then turns to start his music.

The first moves are slow, full of self-consciousness and uncertainty. Junmyeon sways his hips side to side only barely, peeking to check their reactions through the wavy dark hair of his wig. Baekhyun sits unreadable, chin resting on Jongdae’s shoulder, but Jongdae…Jongdae watches him as if he’s the only person on earth. Junmyeon smiles an attempt at his best flirty smile and starts to make bigger, more deliberate movements in time to the beat.

Jongdae shifting against Baekhyun make Junmyeon a little bolder. He dances closer, trails his fingers against Jongdae’s jaw for a moment before turning around and shaking his hips more, pushing his way between Jongdae’s and Baekhyun’s legs. Hands tease against his thighs and he falters for a second before finding the rhythm again.

Those hands pull him back more, close enough that he’s touching Jongdae and the circles of his hips become a deliberate grind against Jongdae’s lap. He smiles a little to himself, steadying his position with a tight grip on Baekhyun’s thighs and letting a shiver run through him at Baekhyun’s soft sigh. He can feel how hard Jongdae is through his jeans, through the thin fabric of his panties.  

He steps away for a moment, turning and straddling one of Jongdae’s legs. He doesn’t sit, not completely, but their skin brushes together anyway as Junmyeon rolls his hips forward a few times. His hands against Jongdae’s shoulders hold him steady, and he lets out a short laugh as Jongdae leans forward to kiss against his collarbone. He pushes Jongdae back against Baekhyun’s chest again, turning and taking up position between their legs again. He makes one last circle of his hips, then pulls away to turn and pull Jongdae to his feet.

It’s hard not to watch Jongdae watching him as he dances around him, rubbing against him, and focusing on Baekhyun, leaned forward in the chair watching them with intensity, doesn’t make it any better. Junmyeon smiles once he spins his way back in front of Jongdae, looking him in the eye for a moment before dropping down.

His hands slide up Jongdae’s thighs, over to the fly of his jeans, and he looks up with a smirk to see Jongdae staring down at him. Jongdae reaches and pets Junmyeon’s head.

“Beautiful,” Jongdae says again quietly.

His eyes flutter closed, mouth dropping open, as Junmyeon presses his lips to the front of Jongdae’s boxer briefs. A hiss cuts through the air, and Junmyeon’s song finishes, moves on to another track, but none of them move to change it. Instead, Jongdae takes Junmyeon’s hands, moves them away from his hips, and pulls Junmyeon to a stand.

His kiss this time isn’t as urgent as it had been when they fell into the apartment, but it’s every bit as intense. Junmyeon feels his knees start to wobble, his head stings momentarily from being pushed back against Baekhyun’s chest of drawers a bit too forcefully. He bites his lip as Jongdae takes up sucking along his neck and looks to Baekhyun, still sitting in the chair watching them. The words to ask Baekhyun to come closer sit just on the tip of Junmyeon’s tongue but before he can say them, Jongdae licks them away.

Junmyeon isn’t drunk, but his head swims just the same as they shuffle their way toward the lower dresser. Jongdae breaks their kiss with a bite before turning Junmyeon around and  nudging him into a more bent position. Junmyeon startles briefly, not expecting the movement, but smiles to himself as he plants his palms against Baekhyun’s dresser to steady himself.

They’re talking behind him, but all Junmyeon hears is the deep rumble of Jongdae’s voice and an occasional quiet laugh from Baekhyun. He lifts his head some, staring into the mirror, watching Jongdae leaning down over Baekhyun with one hand against the back of the chair and the other squeezing Baekhyun’s thigh. They share a kiss and Junmyeon lowers his gaze again from how deeply intimate it looks.

He jumps at the feel of hands on his hips again, and when he looks up, Jongdae stands behind him, pulling his panties down just enough to uncover his ass. His fingers curl as he feels slick pressure against his entrance. Jongdae leans close, sliding hair aside to kiss along the back of Junmyeon’s neck as he presses a couple of fingers in. Junmyeon’s arms buckle from the intensity for a second before he manages to hold himself up again.

Junmyeon watches in the mirror, sees how focused Jongdae is on preparing him, sees Baekhyun watching him in return before getting up to change the music. He’s about to tell Jongdae to hurry when he’s rocked forward—no warning, no hint at all. His breath gets caught in his throat and his hands fumble with futility at something to hold on to and Jongdae’s shuddered moan drowns out the music Baekhyun chose.

The dresser bangs against the wall with the force of Jongdae’s thrusts and Junmyeon lets his droopy eyes shut. He tilts his hips, desperate for Jongdae to reach deeper in him, head falling forward to rest against the dresser briefly.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, already sounding exhausted. He isn’t even sure Jongdae can hear him with his face pressed against his arm. “Fuck…Jongdae, please…”

“Please?” Jongdae repeats, and Junmyeon wants to be annoyed at the teasing but he’s so close to coming that he doesn’t even care. Jongdae’s fingertips dig into his hips deeper.

“God…dammit, fuck me harder!” Junmyeon growls.

Jongdae stops, lets up on his grip, and Junmyeon juts his hips back again to get Jongdae back into moving. And Junmyeon thinks it works for a second until Jongdae pulls completely out. He whines and turns to look behind him, startled by how close Baekhyun is to them; he doesn’t remember seeing or hearing him walk over. Baekhyun slides his hand down Junmyeon’s back gently, down over Junmyeon’s ass, before pressing against him, into him.

It had been a fleeting fantasy of Junmyeon’s, late at night while delirious in the throes of all-night study sessions or just in that sliver of space between asleep and awake, to have Baekhyun pound into him hard enough that he’d forget his own name. So to have him actually doing it pulls a choked sob out of Junmyeon that he tries to cover with a laugh. He tries to brace himself more, obscenities streaming out of him as skin slaps against skin. Jongdae panting so close to them pushes Junmyeon even closer to the edge. 

Baekhyun grips Junmyeon’s shoulder, slamming into him with little more than a few hushed grunts. His rhythm is abstract, unfocused, but hard enough that Junmyeon has to push back to keep his head from knocking into the mirror. He reaches a hand down in front of himself, hoping he’s got enough strength to manage steadying himself with just one arm, and strokes his cock a few times to Baekhyun’s rhythm. That’s enough, though, and he comes with a cry into his hand.

“Jesus!” Baekhyun gasps. A few more pumps and warmth spreads in Junmyeon. He thinks momentarily he might come again at the feel of Baekhyun’s cock head pulsing against him in just the perfect spot. Baekhyun presses forward against Junmyeon’s back, lazy bites pressed against his shoulder. “Fuck, Junma…”

Junmyeon laughs a little, reaches a hand out to grab a tissue from the box on the dresser. He wipes his hand and looks to Jongdae, also busy wiping his own hands.

“Forgiven now?” Junmyeon asks.

Jongdae laughs shortly, pats Junmyeon’s cheek and walks toward the bathroom.


	14. Lesson 14: Trust Your Gut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a while, huh? I'm so very sorry, guys. I feel like I've lost steam on this. D: But rest assured, I'll see it through to the end--it just might take a little longer than I wanted.

It feels all wrong. Junmyeon sits in his office, trying to ignore the various aches all over from having to make things up to Jongdae and Baekhyun so thoroughly, and it feels wrong. At some point, the other shoe will drop, right? His boss will barge in, beer gut heaving, and shout out all his secrets for the whole department—no, the whole company—to hear. Junmyeon will have to move out of the country due to shame. He starts to daydream about the mountains of Switzerland.

When a knock rattles his door, he jumps. His heart doesn’t calm down in the slightest when Kyungsoo pops in.

“So what do you think?” Kyungsoo asks, voice low as he leans in across Junmyeon’s desk.

"…Think?”

“You know. About the vacancy.” There’s mischief all over Kyungsoo’s smirk and Junmyeon just feels even more confused.

“I’m not following,” Junmyeon says.

“Did you not—I texted you yesterday about it.” Kyungsoo sighs. “Did you look at your phone at all?”

“I was…indisposed.”

“Ew. Well, your boss is kaput. Finito. Adios, amigos.”

“There’s only one of—”

“Upper management didn’t say why,” Kyungsoo continues. “Just that they got wind of some ‘unfortunate circumstances.’” He makes exaggerated air quotes before snorting out another laugh. “Good riddance to bad rubbish, am I right?”

“Unfortunate circumstances?”

“Okay, what did those two _do_ to you yesterday?” Kyungsoo asks. He waves his hand in front of Junmyeon’s face. “Are you even here right now? Junm—”

Unfortunate circumstances. What the hell did that even mean? It shouldn’t worry Junmyeon—it should do the exact opposite—but his stomach knots a few times over with that same bad, wrong feeling he’d had all morning. Unfortunate circumstances. Like embezzlement? Like tax evasion? Like…

Getting caught with a live-in sugar baby?

No. Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.

He thinks back to Baekhyun’s somewhat ominous text anyway. _You owe me._ And now, the problem was out of the picture.

“What did you do,” Junmyeon mumbles, brow furrowed.

“…What the hell are you talking about?” Kyungsoo asks. “Were you even listening to me just now?”

——

“Wo-ow, a feast fit for a king.” Baekhyun’s grin makes Junmyeon feel calm despite his nerves. He pulls out a chair for Baekhyun, then goes to sit across the table from him. “What have I done to deserve this?”

“Nothing, just existing,” Junmyeon says. Something about that smile softens, and Baekhyun leans back in his chair.

“You realize I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re bullshitting, right?” Baekhyun asks, arms folded over his chest. “So. What is this?”

“I’m offended you think I ordered such a nice dinner for you just to  ask for a favor.” Junmyeon does what he can to avoid Baekhyun’s gaze, up to and including draining his glass of white wine. “We’re celebrating. Some kind of anniversary…probably.” Baekhyun’s brow lifts just as Junmyeon accidentally catches his eye. “Okay, well, and also I thought maybe…you could tell me what you did.”

“What I did.”

“You did _something_ , Baekhyun, let’s not be coy,” Junmyeon scoffs. “My boss was fired. You said I owe you. I’m putting two and two together.”

“And somehow getting sixty,” Baekhyun says. “So just because those two incredibly unrelated things happened, you assume they must be related? You’re working too hard, Junma. All the numbers are frying your brain.”

“You realize I’ve know you long enough to know when you’re bullshitting.” Junmyeon mirrors those words back to their original owner, and Baekhyun laughs, clipped and high-pitched. “Tell me what you did and I’ll do whatever you want.”

Baekhyun smirks. Starts to push  his fork around his plate. Shoves a few bites of food into his mouth. “You wanna know what I did?” he asks without looking at Junmyeon. “I, the world’s best best friend slash boyfriend, helped you, kind of a shitty boyfriend, keep your fucking job without being an awkward asshole. That’s what I did. And that’s why you owe me.”

“Specifics, Byun.”

“I’m only Byun when you’re pretending to be superior,” Baekhyun says. That sardonic smile makes Junmyeon consider rejecting the fork full of bulgogi Baekhyun offers but his stomach knows better than to turn down a rare moment of Baekhyun offering to share meat. “Specifics. Okay. Well, it’s interesting that companies seem to really frown upon employees using company money to fly their live-in fuck toy around the world with them. Funny, that. Don’t you think?”

Junmyeon chews quietly, eyebrow raised. “You’re…a little bit evil,” he says.

“Wasn’t my idea,” Baekhyun says. “Jongdae. Jongdae is the evil one. I just know how to word things to make them far more lurid than they actually were. Your boss’s boss makes very funny faces when he’s angry, by the way.”

“Evil,” Junmyeon says again with his own smirk starting up. “Have you always been this evil?”

“Yes,” Baekhyun nods. “You already know the answer is yes.”

Junmyeon laughs quietly, nodding a little. He knew. Not that he ever knew immediately, but on drunk nights, when Baekhyun spoke even more freely than usual, things slip out. Things like that time Baekhyun convinced a particularly batty ex of Junmyeon’s that they had mob connections and no trouble whatsoever using them to make people disappear. Things like once, just because Baekhyun disapproved, he’d talked a boy out of flirting with Junmyeon. And with all of his quiet, evil plots, it still hadn’t been clear that their friendship ran a little deeper than just friends.

——

The replacement boss is a woman, short and adorable and with a voice Junmyeon thinks is more suited to the cutesy idols that come through rather than accounting. She treats them to a department dinner, tells them all about her cats and her new nephew and her long-term girlfriend. Junmyeon has never felt so relaxed about work.

It’s nice, the way things fall into a routine. Work becomes pleasant. Jongdae spends every weekend with them. The three of them feel like a real unit. Junmyeon tries not to be too terribly excited by that, but it’s hard to deny when just thinking about Jongdae sets his heart thumping a little faster. He hadn’t really considered he’d ever have just one person that made him so happy, so to stumble into two feels surreal. Everything is good, and that means bad is on the horizon. Junmyeon feels it right down to the marrow.

It starts with an unanswered text. Jongdae, who texts more than Baekhyun and Junmyeon combined, drops off with a suddenness that Junmyeon finds more than a little alarming. Hours crawl. Then it’s a full day of silence from Jongdae. On Friday, when they expect him to show up, there’s nothing. Baekhyun chalks it up to Jongdae’s new job wearing him out, but that’s not a good enough reason for Junmyeon. Saturday comes, and goes, as does Sunday, and still nothing.

Monday, when Junmyeon makes his way home after work, he startles after stepping off of the elevator and seeing a rather large figure outside of the apartment door. Recognition catches up to him eventually and he tries to calm down.

“Chanyeol?” Junmyeon calls, and Chanyeol turns worried eyes to him. “Hi…”

“Hi,” Chanyeol says. “Sorry, I didn’t…I knew you two lived on this floor but I couldn’t remember the apartment number and I didn’t know your phone number.”  

“It’s fine,” Junmyeon says as he unlocks the front door. His bones start to ache with that bad feeling again. “Um. Everything okay? I mean. What brings you here?”

Chanyeol’s hands keep sliding over the strap of his messenger bag and if his brows were any more furrowed, they’d be beneath his eyeballs. “Well I was just hoping maybe Jongdae was here?” he asks. “He hasn’t been home and he’s not answering texts. So I thought maybe—”

“He isn’t coming home?”

Chanyeol shakes his head. “Not since Thursday. He…hasn’t been here?”

“Not since last weekend,” Junmyeon mumbles. He sinks down in his usual seat, hand rubbing against his mouth for a moment. “Do you have his parents’ numbers? Or any family?”

“He doesn’t exactly…speak to his family.” Chanyeol’s words are careful. Guarded.

“Well do you have any idea where he might go?”

“Well I thought I did, that’s why I’m here.”

“…Right. Right, yeah, of course.” There’s a tinge of panic in Chanyeol’s tone and it doesn’t help Junmyeon’s own feelings of worry. “Well…Okay. So, probably not with family, definitely not here…Does he have other friends? Have you called his job?”

“They said he hasn’t come in,” Chanyeol says,  “and everyone else we know hasn’t heard from him. He’s not really the type to do this, so I’m kinda freaking out here. I thought for sure he’d be here with you two.”

Junmyeon shakes his head slightly. He’s listening, but he’s more concerned with the phone in his hands. “Give me your number,” he says, “and if he comes by, I’ll let you know. Or you let me know if he comes home to you, but I want you to go report to the police that he’s missing.”

They exchange numbers, and Chanyeol sees himself out, and Junmyeon lets out a heavy sigh, head tucked between his knees. Immediately he thinks of every single possible death Jongdae could have died. The rain’s come back, hard and angry, and with slick roads everywhere, he could’ve easily been hit by an out of control car. He tries to shake the thought from his head, hopes maybe loosening his tie and starting to undress from his work clothes might help.

When he slides into the bed, Baekhyun groans plaintively before curling into Junmyeon. “Were you talking just now?” Baekhyun asks, still mostly asleep.

It’s still several hours before Baekhyun needs to be awake, needs to get ready for The End. Junmyeon decides not to  worry him just yet. “Just to myself.”


	15. Lesson 15: Spontaneity Is the Spice of Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So heeeey welcome back! There's one more chapter after this. And this chapter's a bit short. Please don't be mad.

It’s another two days before Junmyeon gets a text from Chanyeol.

_Come to the hospital._

He’s at his desk, looking over the reported expenses related to some idol group that he’s sure will flop before even getting fully out of the gate, and his phone vibrates to alert him to that one terse text. He stares at it for a stretch, squinting and tilting his head and contorting his face as if that might unlock some secret meaning behind the text. As if ‘Come to the hospital’ weren’t as straight-forward as one could be.

Seven minutes later, he can’t ignore his heartbeat thumping in his ears, the dryness of his mouth, the way his hands shake as he tries to type in numbers in this spreadsheet. Chanyeol texted, about the hospital, and there’s only one reason for that. Rather than continue ignoring the text in favor of trying to maintain normalcy, he gets up from his desk, grabs his jacket, and for the first time ever, walks off from work without getting any kind of permission to leave.

The hospital feels stifling. It’s massive and blinding white and too many things beep at the same time but Junmyeon still feels like he’s suffocating. He grips his phone a few times, weighing the pros and cons of calling to wake Baekhyun up before he even has any information on why he’s at this stupid hospital. He sees Chanyeol’s fluffy mess of hair above a crowd of people walking his way and his chest tightens even more.

“Oh, great,” Chanyeol sighs once he’s close enough, raking his hair back from his face. If Junmyeon had to guess, this kid hadn’t slept in months. “I thought I’d gotten the wrong number.”

“No, no…sorry. I was at work.” The question sits at the back of Junmyeon’s mouth and he wants it out but tries to wait for Chanyeol to just answer without him having to ask.

“Mm.” Chanyeol nods. His brows knit together and he looks old, older than he had the first time they’d seen each other, and Junmyeon hates everything about this. “Sorry. Uh. I got a call this morning around 3. I’m his emergency contact.”

“Seriously?”

“…You don’t know anything about him, do you?” Junmyeon thinks Chanyeol isn’t really capable of judgment, considering that statement should be laced with it and yet Chanyeol just sounds sad. “I told you, he doesn’t talk to his family. Anyway the hospital called. Someone brought him in. And he wasn’t conscious until right before they called me, so…He’s been here a few days now, they said. A lot of internal…stuff. I don’t know, I blanked. He looks bad. Everything’s all swollen and bruised and he says he doesn’t remember what happened but I don’t fucking believe him. And I thought since you…”

It isn’t disgust on Chanyeol’s face as he trails off, not completely. But maybe annoyance? Envy?

“I could ask,” Junmyeon nods. “Could I see him…?”

“Oh. Oh, right right yeah,” Chanyeol says with a nod. He turns and walks away, and Junmyeon doesn’t have much choice but to follow.

——

Jongdae’s hospital room looks nicer than Junmyeon’s apartment. Large, mostly empty, huge television hanging, a few plants in a corner near the massive floor-to-ceiling window…But Jongdae does not look as nice, and Junmyeon does not know how to handle this. He walks closer, just as Jongdae stops pushing buttons on the remote and notices them enter. Jongdae’s face has cuts and bruising and one eye is swollen shut and Junmyeon’s chest tightens just looking at him in such a state. But Jongdae smiles and a lightness fills the room, even with all the cuts and bruising and one swollen eye.

“Heeeey, pretty lady,” Jongdae chuckles. Junmyeon finds himself smiling back at Jongdae’s drugged-up slurring. “What’re you doing here?”

“Chanyeol said you were hurt,” Junmyeon says. He keeps quiet, as if speaking louder might somehow hurt Jongdae. His hand almost rests against Jongdae’s left arm, but it’s in a cast and Junmyeon doesn’t want to disturb it. “Don’t glare at him.”

“I swear I said don’t call,” Jongdae says, though it’s even less than half-assed.

“You also said you needed me to tell your boss you can’t sort the mangoes today because the jellyfish are here,” Chanyeol says. Jongdae wrinkles his nose, blushes lightly. “I did you a favor. I’ll be at the cafeteria.”

Seconds pass with nothing between Junmyeon and Jongdae, and Junmyeon considers leaving him in peace. His hand still lingers near Jongdae’s, but rather than touch his arm, he slides his hand a little closer to lock their pinkies. The way Jongdae squeezes back makes him feel a little relieved.

“So what happened?” Junmyeon asks. “How did—”

“He only called you to get that outta me, right?” Jongdae scoffs. “I already told everyone, I don’t remember.”

“You really don’t remember or you don’t wanna talk about it?” A pause. “Because if it’s the latter, if…if someone did this to you, then they should be arrested and put in jail. They could hurt someone else.”

“Not going to happen,” Jongdae says with a slight shake of his head. “Unless he finds another kid to dote on who decides to leave to be happy.”

“Oh.”

Oh. Junmyeon’s stomach plummets and probably lands somewhere a few floors down. His legs suddenly feel incapable of holding the rest of him up, and he plops into a chair near the bed, still holding on to Jongdae’s pinky.

“Jongdae…This is my fault, I shouldn’t—”

“Shut up,” Jongdae says. “I was on the way out the door anyway. It’s not your fault. It’s not anybody’s fault. I’ll…I’ll tell them later. Just not right now. I promise. Where’s Baek?”

“Sleeping,” Junmyeon says. “I didn’t tell him. He hasn’t been sleeping that well so I just…I figured I’d fill him in after coming here. I can bring him later if you want…”

“Please?”

Junmyeon smiles. “Sure.”

——

“I should never have said anything,” Baekhyun says. Junmyeon glances over, watches Baekhyun’s hands moving around some as he speaks. “I shouldn’t have gone along with that, what was I thinking? I’m the adult here.”

“He’s also an adult,” Junmyeon says. “Barely. But.”

“Well I’m the adultier adult and I should’ve considered—”

“Honestly, Baekhyun, who ever really considers being beaten almost to death by an ex as a consequence?”

Baekhyun, rather than reply, simply grunts and unbuckles his seatbelt as soon as the car stops. He gets out and heads toward the hospital entrance without waiting for Junmyeon, and Junmyeon just lets him go. It’s late, but Jongdae is more awake than he had been earlier in the day. He greets Baekhyun with a much happier smile than he had for Junmyeon and the two of them don’t stop talking for a solid fifteen minutes.

It’s nice, somehow, in a weird way. Sitting back and letting them chatter and just watching from the sidelines. He likes seeing the way they both light up around each other. And maybe they light up around him, too, but he doesn’t pay attention at those times. Baekhyun starts to try and brush Jongdae’s hair, which results in a very brief fight before Jongdae resigns himself to it and turns his gaze to Junmyeon to make an annoyed face. And that’s it, that’s all it takes.

“Move in with us,” Junmyeon blurts. Everything in the room stills, including his heart. That was not a rational thought. That was not something he’d planned and plotted for weeks, weighed pros and cons, made a chart of every possible outcome.

The spontaneity makes Baekhyun laugh eventually. “Are you drunk?” he asks before going back to trying to make Jongdae presentable, as if anyone other than his care team will be bothering him. “You barely even like living with just me.”

“No, I know, I just…Sorry. Sorry, ignore me.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Jongdae says. “I love Chanyeol but I don’t…” He frowns for a split second. “I dunno. He knows that I live there and I don’t want to…I wouldn’t feel safe. I guess. But I don’t want to leave Chan alone there either.”

“I’ll figure something out,” Junmyeon says as the panic about having blurted that out hits him.


	16. Lesson 16: Every Little Thing Is Gonna Be Alright

“I can’t carry anything else,” Baekhyun says in a long, drawn-out whine. He drops the very small box he’d been carrying near the door, then crumples to the floor beside it. “I’m literally dying.”

“You’re literally the laziest person I’ve ever met,” Junmyeon says as he steps over Baekhyun. He stacks one of the last boxes near the television and sighs some, running a hand through his damp hair.

It’s fitting, really, for the rain to come back on the day they move Jongdae into the apartment. Jongdae rests on the sofa, watching them and occasionally lamenting about not being able to help, at which point Junmyeon reminds him that it’s pretty impossible to carry boxes with one arm in a sling. And with Baekhyun purposefully taking twenty minutes with one light box—as he had when they’d moved in initially—Junmyeon knows he’s doing the bulk of this alone. He doesn’t mind, which surprises him; every time he thinks about throwing in the towel, he stares at Jongdae for a while and feels those butterflies flutter again. This move is good, he tells himself. This move is right.

“Is that everything?” Jongdae asks as he looks at the various stacks around.

“Everything that isn’t the last bit that Chanyeol said he’d bring tomorrow,” Junmyeon says with a nod. He flops onto the sofa, head against Jongdae’s thigh, and closes his eyes. “You don’t have a lot but why is it all so heavy?”

“It’s pretty much all clothes and books,” Jongdae says, and Junmyeon hums a bit as Jongdae’s free hand starts running through Junmyeon’s hair. “Sorry.”

“There are things called tablets now,” Baekhyun says. “Which can load things called ebooks.”

“You carried three boxes that barely weighed anything,” Junmyeon says. “You’d better not fucking complain at all.”

“Oh, you’re swearing in front of the new kid now,” Baekhyun sings. “Look at you, pushing all sorts of envelo—oww.” Jongdae laughs as Junmyeon throws a pillow that connects with Baekhyun’s eye.

“Rude!”

“You two are so married,” Jongdae chuckles, using his free hand to wipe errant tears from laughing too hard.

He’s heard it before, several times, and he can’t seem to stop blushing over it anyway. He smiles some as Jongdae’s hand comes to rest against his thigh. “So, okay, we’re going to put your stuff in Baek’s room,” he says. “Well. I am. Since Baek is still dead apparently. We’ll set it up properly later but for now it’ll just be in there. And we’ll make the couch nice and comfy for you—”

“But I want to be in the bedroom,” Jongdae whines, leaning against Junmyeon. “I can hop to the room. The living room is too far.”

“…Fine,” Junmyeon sighs. “Then we’ll help you to the room, set you up with snacks, and hopefully you’ll be fine while I’m working.”

“I’ll be here,” Baekhyun comments.

“But you’re basically dead to the world during the day.”

“I’m not a monster,” Baekhyun scoffs. “If he needs something, I’ll wake up.”

“He won’t wake up,” Junmyeon says as a not-so-quiet aside to Jongdae. “So I’m going to keep my phone’s ringtone on so if you need something just call me and I’ll see about coming home if you need.”

“I can wake up, what the hell!”

“Or I can get a copy of the key to Chanyeol if you really need something,” Junmyeon continues. The pillow he’d sent Baekhyun’s way comes back to him. “But only if he swears to never use it for any other purpose other than—”

“Kim Junmyeon! I can wake up, stop acting like I don’t know how!” Normally, the whining would get on Junmyeon’s nerves. Instead of telling him to shut up, though, Junmyeon simply smiles, puts his hand over Jongdae’s hand on his thigh, rests his head against the back of the couch.  
“I’ll just leave a key under the door mat just in case,” he says.

“I am so offended,” Baekhyun comments as he pushes himself off of the floor. He smacks Junmyeon’s forehead as he passes by the sofa.

“Ow,” Junmyeon laughs some. He looks at Jongdae a moment and smiles, and Jongdae’s face lights up. It’s nice, Junmyeon thinks, albeit strange. Something still doesn’t quite feel real. “You can make a list…Or, well, have Baekhyun make a list, and I’ll go grocery shopping after work sometime this week so you have things you actually like in the kitchen.”

“I’m not picky,” Jongdae says.

They share another smile and Junmyeon feels…something. He isn’t entirely sure what, but something’s there, something that hadn’t been there when he smiled at past lovers. Something that’s definitely there when he sees Baekhyun smile, too. And he thinks about maybe saying something, but Jongdae takes advantage of the tiny gap in conversation by leaning over and kissing him. Junmyeon smiles against Jongdae’s lips, brushes his thumb against Jongdae’s hand.

“Break it up,” Baekhyun says loudly, walking back into the living room. Junmyeon feels a tug on his hair and ignores the tiny spark that sets off in him. “We’re not done moving boxes.”

“Are you serious?” Junmyeon says. “You didn’t even do anything!”

Baekhyun’s hands rest against Junmyeon’s temples and pull his head back. He stares at Junmyeon for a while before grinning.

“Let’s just pretend like I helped a lot,” he says. “And then it’s official! It’s perfect. It’s wonderful. This is going to be amazing.”

——

“This isn’t working.”

Junmyeon would laugh if he weren’t feeling exactly the same.

It’s been three months and it feels like three decades. Their apartment wasn’t built for three, in any way, shape, or form. And especially not built for someone with as many injuries as Jongdae. They do well enough to help him in shifts, but around two weeks of being makeshift nurses, with Chanyeol doing occasional shift filling, all three of them feel the stress of constant caregiving on top of learning to live with each other in such that space.

And with Jongdae up and about of his own accord, albeit with a barely detectable limp, it means elbows smacking into each other in the bathroom. Clothes everywhere. Snacks being eaten without being replaced. Junmyeon hates that last one in particular. With only two of them, it was slightly easier to stay on top of a mess; Baekhyun just had to nag a little. But three of them, mostly just seeing each other in passing with three very different schedules, meant Junmyeon’s normal bedroom clutter turned into everyone’s entire apartment disaster. And Baekhyun does not look pleased.

“We need more space,” Baekhyun continues. He picks up a discarded pair of boxers and tosses them into the hamper he’d dragged from the bathroom. “Because I love you and Jongdae but I am literally going to murder you.”

“I’m trying,” Junmyeon says. He isn’t trying very hard, and Baekhyun knows this and glares accordingly. Junmyeon grins. “You love me.”

“Not right now I don’t.”

“Okay, but sometimes you love me and that’s what counts.” He fully expected something to be thrown but groans as a pair of Jongdae’s pants smack him in the face. “Well what do you wanna do? Are you going to move out?”

“Why me?” Baekhyun asks. “You get out. Jongdae and I are happy without you.”

“You need me to be the adult here,” Junmyeon says while turning the jeans inside out. He balls them up and throws them into the hamper. “Maybe we should get a house.”

“A house.”

“Mm.”

“The three of us.”

“…Yes?”

It’s tough to gage what’s on Baekhyun’s face but Junmyeon guesses it’s some cross between annoyance and tears. And he almost starts to apologize for such a presumptuous statement, but Baekhyun’s arms wrap around Junmyeon’s neck and suddenly there’s kisses against his jaw and he forgets all about maybe being sorry.

——

“Jongdae!”

The screaming makes Junmyeon jump, almost drop his mug, and he considers screaming for Baekhyun to shut up but then there’s yelling back, more muffled and indeterminable, and Junmyeon sighs. Four months now and it’s still awkward, still cramped, but Baekhyun and Jongdae seem far more willing to overlook that than he is. Or, more accurately, they’ve chosen to resolve any and all issues with one another by fucking. A lot. Very loudly. He thinks this time it was a dispute about bathroom towels.

Occasionally, when he’s well-rested and full of hormones, he doesn’t mind hearing them. But now, while he’s trying to work on an account from home rather than spending all of his time in his office, he has zero desire to listen in. Baekhyun’s stream of _fuck fuck oh fuck_ lets him know that they’re done, at least, but he’s still rather annoyed. He sighs and puts his mug down, tosses his tablet onto the cushion of magazines on the coffee table. Fuck it.

Dinner is a decent enough distraction. Pulling ingredients from the cabinets and the fridge, searching for a recipe on his phone, pretending like he’s not wholly annoyed that the dishwasher is full but hasn’t been run yet. With as much as he bites his tongue, he may well sever it.

“You know what you could do,” Baekhyun starts the conversation with Junmyeon well before he even reaches the kitchen, voice carrying down the hall. Junmyeon looks up, ignores the little swell in his heart upon seeing Baekhyun’s bedhead, the oversized robe slipping off his shoulder to expose a reddened collarbone. Baekhyun grins at Junmyeon before grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl Junmyeon insisted they get. “You could make me a quesadilla.”

“Or I could say fuck you,” Junmyeon says. He hands Baekhyun a bottle of water. “Rehydrate, asshole.”

“Bless you.”

Baekhyun moves closer and kisses Junmyeon before opening the water bottle, and Junmyeon tries to distance himself from the situation lest his anger dissolve into horniness and he fall into their little mad-fucking rut. But Jongdae comes down the hall as well, forgetting all about something so unimportant as clothes, and Junmyeon thinks maybe their arrangement is for the best.

“Gonna talk to the realtor tomorrow,” Junmyeon says. He struggles to keep his eyes above Jongdae’s waist. “So…hopefully this is the last of you two ruining my attempts to work from home.”

“We offered for you to join,” Jongdae shrugs before taking a swig of Baekhyun’s water.

“You actually didn’t.”

“Oh, well we thought about it.” The nibbling Jongdae does along his neck only barely makes Junmyeon smile. The hand slipping around his front, giving a squeeze as Jongdae laughs in his ear definitely makes Junmyeon smile. “Can’t believe you bought a house.”

“Am buying a house,” Junmyeon corrects. “And I need space. You two are fucking obnoxious. And you two fucking are obnoxious.”

“How long have you waited to make that bit of wordplay?” Baekhyun asks.

“About three weeks.”

——

The new house is huge. It’s got four bedrooms as a just in case, according to Junmyeon, even though he’s certain only one will ever be used. There’s enough space for that dog that Baekhyun’s been wanting for years, enough space that Junmyeon can retreat into another part of the house to avoid hearing Jongdae and Baekhyun.

It’s perfect, and the perfect way to use part of his savings. It’s a house for himself, he assures his own brain, watching as Jongdae and Baekhyun bicker about carrying things inside. It’s definitely not because he sees some kind of future with the two of them. Absolutely not related to the fact that he’s been smiling the whole time watching them.

He lets out a heavy sigh and foists himself off of the side of the moving truck. When he turns the corner toward the back of the truck, he damn near screams—a random stranger awaits. Tall, almost impossibly thin, the best head of dark fluffy hair in existence. They stare at each other until this stranger decides to give Junmyeon a wry smile.

“I was snooping,” he says. “That grandfather clock is really nice. And really old.”

“It was…my grandfather’s,” Junmyeon says. The stranger does a piss-poor job of stifling a laugh. “Sorry, um. Do you live around here, or…?”

“I live elsewhere; my parents live there,” the guy says, pointing at the massive home across the street. “I saw the truck. I needed to know who’s invading their neighborhood.”

“Just me,” Junmyeon says and it’s too loud, startling the stranger. “Just me. Yep.”

“Those guys—”

“Are my friends! Great friends. The best friends.”

“They’re making out on the porch.”

“…They’re also very good friends with each other.” The stranger’s eyes narrow. He folds his arms over his chest. Junmyeon decides to try and veer that suspicious look elsewhere. “I’m Kim Junmyeon.”

“Oh Sehun. You have a lot of stuff for just you,” he says. “Are you sure your ‘best friends’ aren’t moving in, too?”

“You are…really nosy.”

“I told you that.” Sehun smiles. “Well if they’re just your friends, and you’re moving in as just you, then I look forward to seeing you on the weekends. You should get that clock in soon; it’s about to start raining, wouldn’t want it to get messed up.”

Sehun waves, just barely, before seeing himself back across the street, and Junmyeon isn’t really sure why he watches him go. Somewhere, miles and miles away, thunder rumbles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yaaaaaaah it's the end! *sadly throws confetti* Thank y'all SO MUCH for reading, and commenting, and sticking with me through taking a long-ass time between updates. Y'all are brilliant. Y'all are amazing. Y'all are adorable. Please don't hit me over this ending. But you can yell at me about this whole thing over on [tumblr](http://poshcy.tumblr.com/) if you so choose. Cara OUT! *drops mic*

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a thing that came about during several conversations with a dear friend of mine. Somehow, I've smushed together my love of Suho as Junhee during the Boy's Day performance and my love for the recent @star1 magazine cover. 
> 
> I hope y'all like this. I'll update tags as needed as the story moves along since I'm genuinely just winging it for now. Comments are greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading!


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